\'  \ 


THE 


ELEMENTS  OF  SOCIOLOGY 


FOR   COLLEGES  AND  SCHOOLS 

^S  WE  LL    AS   T^£  NAL 


9o 


■^ 


BY     ^  N^TITUTION^^ 


PROFESSOR  OF  SOCIOLOGY  IN  COLUMBIA  UNIVERSltY,  NEW  YORK<'«^ 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  SOCIOLOGY  "  ^t*** 


FRANKLIN   HENRY  GIDDINGS,  M.A.,  Ph.D 

RK' 


Vdost  . 


THE   MACMILLAN    COMPANY 

LONDON  :  MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LTD. 
1902 

All  rights  -reserved 


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b 


.a^ 


Copyright,  1898, 
By  the  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped  September,  1898.      Reprinted  March, 
1899 ;  August,  1900 ;  April,  1901  ;  August,  1902. 


•  ••     • 

•  •  •  • 

•  •    •  • 


•  i    i 


Norinooti  IPrrss 

J.  8.  Cuihing  &  Co.     Brrwick  ft  Smith 
Norwood  Mms.  U.S.A. 


I 

1. 


PREFACE 

The  present  volume  is  what  its  title  implies,  an  ele- 
mentary text-book  of  Sociology.  It  has  been  written  in 
response  to  a  persistent  and  growing  demand  for  an 
untechnical  but  scientific  and  reasonably  complete  state- 
ment of  sociological  theory,  for  the  use  of  college  and 
school  classes. 

No  other  subject  calls  for  such  serious  attention  from 
teachers  and  students  of  educational  philosophy  at  the 
present  time  as  that  of  the  best  preparation  for  an  intel- 
ligent and  responsible  citizenship.  Marvellous  as  the| 
development  of  the  United  States  has  been^  during  the 
century  that  is  now  closing,  greater  destinies  are  yet  to  be 
realized.  ^  Our  task  in  furthering  the  civilization  of  the 
world  is  to  be  a  large  and  responsible  one;  no  other 
nation  can  assume  it  for  us  or  perform  it  if  we  fail.xl 
Delicate  as  our  international  relations  have  been  during 
our  attempt  to  establish  a  secure  republic  in  a  world  of 
monarchies,  they  are  to  be  more  delicate  and  more  diffi- 
cult in  the  near  future  when  the  European  powers  attempt 
to  rectify  their  colonial  boundaries.  Complicated  as  our 
financial  problems  have  already  been,  they  will  hereafter 
call  for  greater  wisdom  than  has  been  bestowed  upon 
them    hitherto.      Difficult    as   has   been   the   attempt  to 

i 


vi  Preface 

organize  efficient,  economical,  and  honest  municipal 
government  for  cities  numbering  millions  of  inhabitants, 
the  difficulties  will  continue  to  increase  as  population 
grows  and  wealth  accumulates.  Neither  good  luck  nor 
any  mere  intuition  of  common  sense  will  enable  us  to 
f^aintain  the  reality  of  republican  ireedom  unless  we  have 
other  resources  to  draw  upon.  Besides  common  sense 
and  energy,  we  must  have  knowledge,  training,  and  an 
unselfish  devotion  to  the  cause  of  human  progress. 

It  is  certain,  however,  that  schools  and  colleges  cannot 
furnish  detailed  courses  in  all  branches  of  economic,  legal, 
and  political  science.  The  field  is  too  vast  and  the  years 
of  study  are  too  brief.  To  a  majority  of  teachers  the 
alternative  seems  to  be  to  give  either  a  thorough  course  in 
some  one  subject — Political  Economy,  for  example  —  or  a 
superficial  course  in  many  subjects,  including  "Civics"  (or 
Elementary  Constitutional  Law),  International  Law,  and 
Political  Ethics. 
•/  In  the  judgment  of  the  present  writer,  it  would  be  wise 

to  devote  a  large  part  of  the  time  available  for  such  dis- 
ciplines to  a  careful  study  of  the  nature  and  laws  of 
human_society.  This  study  would  familiarize  the  pupil 
with  the  principal  forms  of  social  organization ;  with  the 
thoughts,  the  sympathies^  the  purposes,  and  the  virtues 
that  make  society  possible ;  with  the  benefits  that  society 
confers ;  and  with  the  conduct  that  worthy  membership  of 
society  requires.  These  are  the  facts  and  principles  that 
underlie  all  details  of  law  and  politics,  all  sound  political 
economy,  and  all  public  morality.  Well  instructed  in  these 
matters,  the  student   is   fitted   to   continue  his  study  of 


Preface  vii 

society  and  public  policy  throughout  life.  Without  this 
foundation,  no  acquaintance  with  legal  or  historical  detail 
can  give  him  a  comprehensive  grasp  of  social  relations. 

That  this  opinion  is  shared  by  many  teachers  the  author 
has  abundant  evidence;  and  because  of  it  the  present  text- 
book has  been  written.     Sociology,  as  here  set  forth,  ^^\ 
nothing  more  or  less  than  an_ elementary  description  of  \ 
socjet}r^jn^cl^r_aiLd  simple  scientific  terms.      It  will  notj 
be  found  more  difficult  as  a  class  subject  than  Algebra, 
Chemistry,  or  Elementary  Psychology. 

This  volume  is  not  an  abridgment  of  the  author's 
'*  Principles  of  Sociology,"  but  is  a  new  book.  Many 
paragraphs,  however,  and  here  and  there  entire  pages, 
have  been  adapted  from  the  larger  work. 

New  York,  August,  1898. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/elementsofsociolOOgiddrich 


TABLE   OF  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PACK 

Fopulation  and  Society i 

CHAPTER   II 
Where  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed  .        •        .        •      '3 

CHAPTER   III 
How  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed     .        •        .        •        •      22 

CHAPTER   IV 
The  Composition  and  the  Unity  of  a  Social  Population        .        .      29 

CHAPTER  V 
The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii  .....••      34 

CHAPTER  VI 
Socialization 53 

CHAPTER  VII 
Cooperation 76 

CHAPTER  VIII 
Social  Pleasure 88 

CHAPTER   IX 

The  Social  Nature 95 

ix 


X  Table  of  Contents 

CHAPTER  X 

rAGB 

The  Classes  of  Socii 103 

CHAPTER  XI 

The  Preeminent  Social  Class       .        .        .        .        ,        ,        .113 

CHAPTER  XII 
The  Social  Mind :  Modes  of  Like-mindedness      .        •        •        .119 

CHAPTER  XIII 
Sympathetic  Like-mindedness  and  Impulsive  Social  Action  .     129 

CHAPTER  XIV 
Formal  Like-mindedness :  Tradition  and  Conformity  .        •        .141 

CHAPTER  XV 
Rational  Like-mindedness :  Public  Opinion  and  Social  Values     .     155 

CHAPTER   XVI 
Social  Organization ,        •        .        .172 

CHAPTER  XVII 
Component  Societies 179 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
Constituent  Societies 193 

CHAPTER   XIX 
The  Character  and  Efficiency  of  Organization      .        •        •        .216 

CHAPTER  XX 

The  Early  History  of  Society       .        .        *        .        .        •        .231 


Table  of  Contents  xi 

CHAPTER  XXI        t- 


PAGE 


Tribal  Society 254 

CHAPTER  XXH 
Civilization ,        .     272 

CHAPTER  XXHI 
Progress 290 

CHAPTER   XXIV 
Democracy 302 

CHAPTER  XXV 
The  Theory  of  Society .     330 


THE  ELEMENTS  OF  SOCIOLOGY 


3jOic 


CHAPTER   I 
Population  and  Society 

The  Groupings  of  Like  Things.  —  If  we  wish  to  under- 
stand the  world  in  which  we  live,  we  must  cultivate  the 
habit  of  noticing  what  things  are  like_o.n_e_another. 

It  is  true  that  we  must  also  notice  what  things  are 
unlike  one  another.  If  we  were  unaware  of  differences, 
we  should  not  know.  If  our  eyes  were  not  sensitive  to 
differences  of  brightness  and  of  colour,  if  our  ears  were 
deaf  to  gradations  of  sound,  and  if  the  nerves  of  the  skin 
detected  no  inequalities  of  pressure,  the  external  world 
would  remain,  for  our  minds,  a  blank.  Discrimination, 
then,  is  the  beginning  of  knowledge.  Nevertheless,  it  is 
only  a  beginning. 

If  we  knew  nothing  but  the  differences  of  things,  we 
should  soon  reach  the  limit  of  the  detail  that  our  minds 
could  hold.  Endless  progress  in  knowledge  is  possible^ 
only  because  we  observe  resemblances  as  well  as  differ-^ 
ences.  As  rapidly  as  we  discover  that  things  are  alike, 
we  put  them  together  in  our  thought  as  a  group,  or  class, 
or  kind.  This  enables  us  to  think  about  them  collectively 
by  a  single  effort  of  attentk)?!,^  instead  of,  separately  by 

B  "I 


2  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

innumerable  efforts.    We  owe  all  science  to  this  possibility 
of  economizing  our  mental  energies,  by  grouping  things 
lin  our  thoughts  into  classes  or  kinds. 

Comparatively  few  persons  make  their  mental  groupings 

I    in  a  strictly  methodical  way.     To  observe  systematically 

I  and  classify  with  precision  —  that  is,  to  group  like  things 

j  '  together  with  accuracy  —  is  to  be  scientific. 

.      Classification,  then,  is  the  foundation   of   all   scientific 

knowledge;    and  classification  consists  simply  in  putting 

together  in  our  thought  those   things  that  are  truly  and 

]  essentially  alike. 

When  we  have  formed  the  habit  of  scientific  observa- 
tion, we  presently  discover  that,  in  the  world  of  external 
things,  objects  which  are  so  much   alike   that  we  group 
them  in  our  thought  are  usually  grouped   together  also 
j  in  space. 

If  we  follow  the  windings  of  a  stream  through  the 
meadows,  and  notice  the  Vc^.ious  weeds  and  wild  flowers 
that  grow  on  its  banks,  the  insects  that  wing  over  its 
stagnant  pools,  and  the  birds  that  nest  in  the  thickets 
along  its  borders,  we  quickly  learn  that  it  is  unusual  to. 
find  only  one  object  of  the  same  kind  in  a  given  place. 
We  are  much  more  likely  to  come  upon  great  masses  of 
cowslips  or  violets,  swarms  of  gnats,  bands  of  butterflies, 
two  or  three  dragon-flies  darting  about  together,  and  pairs, 
or  even  flocks,  of  the  same  species  of  birds,  than  to  en- 
counter individual  specimens. 

In  like  manner,  if  we  extend  our  observations  over  wide 
regions  in  the  same  country,  and  then  over  the  entire 
surface  of  the  globe,  we  find  that  particular  rock  forma- 
tions, soils,  and  mineral  deposits  are  found  together  in 
certain    areas,'   and    not'  .^sicattered    in   a   haphazard    way 


Population  and  Society  .3 

throughout  the  continents ;  and  that  species  of  plants  and 
animals  have  their  well-known  habitats  or  haunts,  or,  as 
the  naturalists  say,  their  areas  of  characterization. 

The  same  is  true  of  the  varieties  of  Aiankind.  The 
white,  yellow,  red,  and  black  races  are  not  indiscriminately 
mingled  over  the  face  of  the  earth ;  but  each  has  its  own 
fairly  well-defined  division.  The  natural  home  of  the 
white  races  is  Europe,  northern  Africa,  and  western  Asia ; 
and  from  Europe  they  have  spread  to  America,  southern 

^  Asia,  and  Australia.     The   natural   home   of   the  yellow 

r  races  is  northern  and  eastern  Asia.  The  natural  home  of 
the  red  races  is  America.  The  natural  home  of  the  black 
races  is  Africa,  southern  Asia,  and  the  islands  of  the 
Pacific  Ocean.  Even  of  the  national  varieties  of  the  white 
races  this  is  true.  The  Semitic  groups  dwell  together  east 
of  the  Mediterranean,  the  Slavic  in  the  east  and  north  of 
Europe,  the  Scandinavian  in  northwestern  Europe. 

Population.  —  Any  group  of  \uman  beings  of  the  same 
kind  or  description  —  that  is,  a  group  composed  of  persons 
who,  in  a  number  of  important  respects,  resemble  one 
another,  and  dwell  together  in  a  geographical  area  that 

I  can  be  fairly  well-defined  —  may  be  called  a  population. 

Ir  The  most  interesting  pecuHarity  of  populations  is  one 
that  is  to  form  the  subject  of  our  present  study.  The 
individuals  that  compose  a  population  are  endowed  with 
intelligence,  and  therefore  have  the  habit  of  noticing  re- 
semblances and  differences,  of  which  we  have  just  been 
speaking.  Among  the  resemblances  and  differences  that 
they  observe  are  those  which  they  discover  among  them- 
selves —  and  it  is  in  these  that  they  become  chiefly  inter- 
ested. They  become  keen  in  noticing  likenesses  and 
unlikenesses  of  colour,  race,  and  nationality,  resemblances 


4  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

and  differences  of  character  and  conduct,  of  tastes  and 

habits.     The  individuals  composing  a  population,  like  most 

other  objects  that  are  found  in  groups,  are,  to  a  great 

extent,  alike;  but  unlike  other  objects,  they  also  know  thai 

\  they  are  alike. 

"^  Besides  knowing  that  they  are  alike,  the  individuals 
that  make  up  a  population  usually  find  enjoyment  in  their 
,  resemblances,  and  are  likely  to  quarrel  and  make  them- 
selves w^retched  over  their  differences.  The  white  man,  as 
a  general  thing,  is  glad  that  the  men  about  him  also  are  . 
white  men ;  and  white  men  often  entertain  feelings  not  ^ 
altogether  agreeable  towards  groups  of  black  men  with 
which  they  are  obliged  to  have  much  contact.  In  like 
manner,  men  who  believe  or  think  alike  about  some  ques- 
tion or  interest  that  concerns  them  — for  example,  a  ques- 
tion of  religion,  or  of  politics,  or  a  question  of  political 
economy,  like  that  of  gold  or  silver  money,  or  of  a  protec- 
tive tariff  —  find  great  pleasure  in  their  intellectual  sym- 
pathy, and  habitually  quarrel  with  those  who  differ  from 
them. 

Finally,  men  who  thus  recognize  their  resemblances  and 
take  pleasure  in  their  agreements  find  that  they  can  work 
s/  together  for  common  ends.  It  is  possible  for  them  to 
have  similar  purposes  in  life,  to  agree  upon  the  best  means 
of  achieving  them,  to  understand  one  another,  and  there- 
fore to  cooperate  sympathetically  and  with  success. 

Of  all  the  resemblances  which  the  individuals  of  a  pop- 
ulation thus  discover  among  themselves,  and  turn  to  good 
account,  the  most  important  are  those  mental  and  moral 
resemblances  which  thus  make  cooperation  possible.  Dif- 
ferences of  race  or  of  colour,  of  speech  even,  may  be  over- 
looked if  there  are  agreements  of  thought  and  feeling. 


Population  and  Society  5 

But   without   these,   harmony,  happiness,   and  successful 
cooperation  are  not  possible. 

Society.  —  The  facts  that  we  have  here  been  describing 
are  called  social  facts  or  facts  of  society. ' 

The  word  "society"  is  derived  from  the  Latin  word 
sociics,  meaning  a  companion  or  associate.  As  soon  as  any 
person  associates  with  another,  or  has  a  companion  or 
friend,  he  is  already  aware  of  important  resemblances  be- 
tween that  companion  and  himself.  He  knows  that  they 
are  interested  in  the  same  things  or  like  to  do  the  same 
things,  or  that  they  have  similar  tastes,  beliefs,  or  sympa- 
thies ;  or  perhaps  even  that  they  are  alike  in  all  of  these 
matters.  He  finds,  however,  that  in  some  things  they 
differ ;  but  that  their  acquaintance  and  conversation  often 
bring  them  to  agreement  or  sympathy  upon  subjects  which, 
at  first,  divided  them.  This  process  of  discovering  both 
differences  and  similarities,  and  of  coming  to  agreement 
upon  various  subjects,  yields  a  large  part  of  the  charm  of 
their  friendship. 

Just  this  process  goes  on  in  every  population,  not  only 
between  each  person  and  some  one  other  person  or  com- 
panion, but  between  each  and  many  associates.  That  is 
to  say,  wherever  many  individuals  dwell  or  mingle  to- 
gether in  one  place,  there  goes  on  an  active  interchange  of 
ideas  and  sympathies,  a  cultivation  of  acquaintance  and  of 
like-mindedness.  Consequently  the  word  "  society,"  which 
originally  means  companionship  or  association,  has  been  ex- 
tended to  mean  also  this  process  of  pleasurable  conversation 
and  cultivation  of  both  acquaintance  and  like-mindedness^ 

Society,  then,  as  a  mode  of  activity  of  intelligent  iadividu-X  ^ 
als,  _is  the  cultivation  of  acquaintance  and  like-mindednesS'.'^ 

This  mode  of  activity,  of  course,  yields  a  certain  result 


6  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

or  product.  It  makes  those  who  associate  more  and  more 
alike  in  mental  aim  moral  qualities.  Its  product,  there- 
fore, is  a  group  of  like-minded  persons  who  enjoy  and 
keep  up  this  mode  of  activity.  Such  a  group  or  prodijct 
is  called  a  society. 

A  society,  therefore,  is  any  group  or  number  of  indi- 
viduals who  cultivate  acquaintance  and  mental  agreement ; 
that  is  to  say,  like-mindedness.     It  is  a  group  of  socii. 

Such  activity,  however,  as  has  already  been  intimated, 
is  found  only  if  there  is  a  good  degree  of  like-mindedness 
to  begin  with.  Consequently,  we  need  to  enlarge  and 
slightly  modify  our  definition  of  a  society  as  follows :  — 
♦  A  society  is  a  number  of  like-minded  individuals  — 
\A  socii  —  who  know  and  enjoy  their  like-mindedness,  and 
j  are  therefore  able  to  work  together  for  common  ends. 

Kinds  of  Societies.  —  This  is  a  general  definition.     Socie- 
l    ties  are  of  different  kinds ;  and  the  word  "  society,"  there- 
fore, has  a  number  of  special  meanings,  all  of  which  are 
consistent  with  the  general  definition. 

Natural  Society.  —  A  population,  as  has   already  been 
said,  is  a  group  or  number  of  individuals  who,  in  many  im- 
portant ways,  are  alike,  arfd  who  live  within  the  same  fairly 
well-defined  area.     It  has  also  been  shown  that  the  habit 
of  cultivating  acquaintance  and  like-mindedness,  making 
them  more  nearly  perfect,  extends  throughout  the  popu- 
PTation.      An  entire  population,  therefore,  is,  or  tends   to 
V    become,  a  single  social  group  or  society.      The^jDrocess  is 
a  natural  one,  which  goes  on  just  the  same  whether  indi- 
viduals give  much  conscious  attention  to  it  or  not.      A 
population  maintaining  social  activities  may  therefore  be 
Icalled  a  social  population  or  natural  society. 

A  natural  society  is  a  population  that  is  composed  of. 


Population  and  Society  7 

like-minded  individuals  who    know  and   enjoy  their  like- 
mindedness,  and  are  therefore  able  to  work  together  for    ' 
common  ends. 

The  Integral  Society,  —  A  natural  society  which  is  large  ' 
enough  to  carry  on  every  known  kind  of  social  activity 
and  cooperation,  including  such  activities  as  government, 
industry,  education,  religion,  science,  and  art,  and  which, 
independently  of  any  other  society,  maintains  control  over 
the  territory  that  it  occupies,  may  be  called  an  integral 
society.  Thus,  each  of  the  great  modern  nations,  the  I 
United  States,  England,  France,  Germany,  for  example, 
is  an  integral  society,. 

Component  Societies.  —  Within  each  integral  society  are  I 
to  be  found  social  groups  that,  in  many  respects,  but  not 
in  all,  are  complete  and  independent.  Each  of  these 
groups  if  left  to  itself  could  maintain  its  existence  and 
perfect  a  complete  social  life.  But  in  fact  it  is  subordi- 
nate in  certain  matters  to  the  larger  society  which  includes 
it.  Such  social  groups  are  the  several  commonwealths  or 
states  of  the  American  Union,  and  the  originally  indepen- 
dent kingdoms  of  the  now  United  Kingdom  of  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland.  Such  also  are  counties,  townships,  ^ 
cities,  and  villages ;  and  such,  finally,  is  the  smallest  social 
group  that  could,  if  left  to  itself,  grow  into  an  entire  pop- 
ulation or  integral  society,  namely,  the  family. 

Social  groups  that  could  exist  as  complete  and  indepen- 
dent societies,  but  which  in  fact  are  only  component  parts 
of  integral  societies  to  which  they  are,  in  certain  respects, 
subordinate,  may  be  called  component  societies.  | 

Constitnent  Societies.  —  Within  each  integral  society, 
and  within  most  of  the  component  societies,  are  formed 
social   groups   of   another   kind.     Their  origin   is  always 


8  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

f^rtificial.     A  certain  number  of  individuals  come  together 
and,  as  they  say,  form  or  organize  a  society  for  achieving 
'  some  purpose  which  they  have  in  mind.     Such  a  society, 
for  example,  is  a  business  corporation ;  such  is  a  political 
^  party,  a  church,  a  scientific  association,  or  a  club.     Socie- 
ties of  this  kind  carry  on  the  work  of  the  community  by 
i/a  division  of  labour.     They  are  not   independent  of   one 

'^another.  None  of  them  could  exist  unless  others  also 
existed.  Together  they  make  up  or  constitute  the  com- 
plete social  organization  of  the  integral  society.  They 
may,  therefore,  be  called  constituent  societies. 

Sociology. — In  modern  times  every  class  of  objects  in 
the  natural  world,  and  every  kind  of  human  activity,  has 
been  made  the  subject  of  scientific  study.  Society  and 
social  activities  were  among  the  latest  facts  to  be  studied 
in  a  scientific  spirit  and  by  scientific  methods.  This  was 
because  a  scientific  study  of  society  was  possible  only  after 
a  great  deal  of  knowledge  about  other  things  had  been 
accumulated.  Social  relations  are  more  complicated  than 
relations  of  any  other  kind. 

y    r    I'he  scientific  study  of  society  is  called  Sociology. 

y  The  object  of  all  scientific  study  is  to  arrive  at  a  com- 
I  plete  description  of  the  thing  studied.  C  The  word  "descrip- 
tion "  is  used  in  various  ways,  however,  and  we  must  be 
careful  to  distinguish  scientific  description  from  a  descrip- 
tion that  is  merely  pictorial  or  dramatic.  A  scientific 
description  does  not  stop  when  the  different  parts  of  an 
object  have  been  successfully  presented  to  the  mental 
vision  so  that  we  see  them  in  imagination  as  we  might  see 
a  building  or  a  city.  In  scientific  description,  we  go  on 
to  show  how  an  object  behaves  or  acts,  and  to  show 
further  how  different  acts  or  events   are  related  to   one 


Population  and  Society  9 

another  in  a  complete  system.  We  show  also  the  propor- 
tions, numbers,  or  other  quantitative  facts  that  may  be 
discovered  in  the  relations  which  objects  and  events  bear 
to  one  another.  Scientific  description  thds  results  in  the~l 
discovery  of  what  are  called  causes  and  laws,  which  are 
simply  certain  uniformities  of  order,  sequence,  proportion, 
and  so  on,  among  the  facts  that  have  been  described. 

Using  the  word  "  description"  in  this  sense,  we  may  say 
that  Sociology  is  the  scientific  description  of  society^  I 

The  Unit  of  Investigation.  —  The  scientific  description 
of  any  object  or  group  of  facts  must  start  from  that 
imperfect  discrimination  which  common  knowledge  has 
already  made  of  the  object  itself  from  all  other  things. 
Thus  the  sciences  of  Chemistry,  Astronomy,  Geology, 
Botany,  and  Zoology  start  from  the  familiar  distinctions 
between  one  and  another  of  the  changing  forms  of  matter, 
between  the  heavenly  bodies  and  the  earth,  between  living 
and  non-living  objects,  and  between  plants  and  animals. 

But  just  because  the  scientific  mind  is  dissatisfied  with 
off-hand  knowledge  and  abhors  vagueness,  it  always  be- 
gins its  systematic  classifying  of  things  by  trying  to  make 
its  preliminary  observations  as  exact  as  possible.  This  is  ' 
done  by  stripping  away  from  the  subject  of  investigation 
all  irrelevant,  accidental,  and  occasional  facts,  and  looking 
for  what  is  simple,  elementary,  and  persistent.  The  sim- 
plest form  of  the  subject-matter  of  a  science  is  called  the 
Unit  of  Investigation. 

The  chemists  have  long  known  that  their  science  is  con- 
cerned with   the   elementary   forms    of   matter;    namely, 
oxygen,  hydrogen,  carbon,  nitrogen,  aluminium,  chlorine,., 
sodium,   and   some  sixty  more,  —  their  number,  qualities, 
atomic  weights,  and  combinations  with  one  another.     The 


lO  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

element,  then,  is  the  unit  of  investigation  in  Chemistry. 
The  astronomers  have  long  known  that  the  specific  object 
of  their  investigation  is  not  the  heavens  in  general,  but 
the  particular  planet  or  star, — its  motion,  shape,  size,  dis- 
tance, composition,  and  history.  The  geologists  have 
learned  that  their  subject-matter  is  rock,  —  its  composition, 
density,  texture,  shape,  fracture,  cleavage,  position,  strati- 
fication, and  history.  The  biologists,  both  botanists  and 
zoologists,  have  found  their  unit  of  investigation  in  the 
organic  cell;  they  observe  its  structure,  development,  and 
combinations.  The  psychologists  have  two  units  of  in- 
vestigation, because  they  study  both  consciousness  and 
the  activity  of  a  particular  form  of  matter ;  namely,  that 
which  is  found  in  nerve  and  brain.  The  unit  of  investiga- 
tion in  the  study  of  consciousness  is  sensation,  which  is 
the  simplest  of  all  mental  facts.  The  unit  of  investigation 
in  the  study  of  nerve  and  brain  activity  is  the  nerve  cell 
and  its  reaction  to  irritation  or  stimulus. 

What,  now,  is  the  unit  of  investigation  in  Sociology } 
The  answer  has   already   been   partly   disclosed.     In  its 
^'  j!  simplest  form,  society  exists  whenever  an  individual  has  a 
/      '  companion  or  associate.     The  socius,  then,  is  the  unit_of 
any  social  group  or  society  ;  and  his  conduct  is  the  unit  of 
social  activity.     Every  human  being  is  at  once  an  animal, 
ia^conscious  individual  mind,  and  a  socius.     As  an  animal 
he  is  studied  by  the  anatomist  and  physiologist ;  as  a  con- 
scious mind  he  is  studied  by  the  psychologist ;  as  a  socius, 
loving  and  seeking  acquaintance,  forming  friendships  and 
alliances  with  other  socii  like  himself,  imitating  them  and 
setting  examples  for  them,   teaching  them    and  learning 
from  them,  and  engaging  with  them   in  many  forms  of 
common  activity,  —  he  is  studied  by  the  sociologist. 


Popiilatio?i  and  Society  II 

The  imit_of  investigation,  then,  in  Sociology  is  the  socius 
—  that  is  to  say,  the  individual  who  is  not  only  an  animal 
and  a  conscious  mind,  but  also  a  companion,  a  learner,  a 
teacher,  and  co-worker.  ' 

Sociology  studies  the  nature  of  the  socius,  his  habits  u 
and  his  activities.     Whether  there  are  different  kinds  or 
classes  of  socii,  how  socii  influence  one  another,  how  they 
combine  and  separate,  what  groups  they  form,  —  all  these 
questions  also  are  questions  of  Sociology. 

The  Problems  of  Sociology.  —  When  a  science  has  descrip-     vx 
tively  marked  out  its  subject-matter  and  found  its  unit  of 
investigation,  it  has  accomplished  the  first  of  four  tasks 
which  every  complete  science  must  undertake. 

The  second  task  of  science  is  carefully  to  examine  the ' 
activities  or  processes  that  may  be  observed  in  the  object, 
or  group  of  things,  or  group  of  interests,  under  investi- 
gation. Thus  the  chemist,  when  he  has  discovered  the_j 
elementary  forms  of  matter,  observes  how  each  element 
behaves  in  all  possible  combinations  with  other  elements. 
The  biologist  tries  to  discover  all  possible  modes  of  cell 
formation  and  cell  development. 

The  third  task  of  science  is  to  show  what  new  products  r 
or  combinations  of  facts  or  things  are  brought  into  exist- 
ence  as  a  result  of  the  activities  or  processes.  Thus  the 
chemist  tries  to  discover  what  complex  products  can  be 
made  by  combining  the  chemical  elements  in  all  possible 
ways.  The  biologist  observes  all  the  forms  of  tissue,  and 
the  different  kinds  of  organisms  that  are  produced  by  the 
different  combinations  of  living  cells. 

The  fourth  task  of  science  is  to  discover  and  formulate  "' 
the  exact  relations  or  laws  which  prevail  among  activities 
and  in  the  evolution  of  their  products. 


12  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

In  a  rough  general  way,  the  first  scientific  task  of  Soci- 
ology has  been  performed  in  this  chapter.  We  have  shown 
what  group  of  facts  Sociology  studies,  and  determined  the 
unit  of  investigation.  We  have  now  to  go  on  and  examine 
more  carefully  the  processes  or  activities  of  society,  the 
products  which  result  from  them,  and,  finally,  the  laws 
which  explain  both  activities  and  products. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 
Read  Spencer's  "  Study  of  Sociology." 


CHAPTER   II 

Where  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed 

Inhabitable  Areas.  —  Natural  societies  are  found  only 
where  the  physical  features  of  land  and  climate  are  favour- 
able to  the  grouping  of  living  beings  in  relatively  large 
aggregations.  There  can  be  no  social  activity  without 
communication  and  acquaintance;  and  these  are  impossi- 
ble if  individuals  are  so  widely  separated  in  space  that 
they  must  pass  most  of  their  time  in  isolation. 

Rather  more  than  half  of  the  land  surface  of  the  earth 
is  unfavourable  to  any  massing  of  population.  Mountain 
ranges,  deserts,  tropical  jungles,  and  the  intensely  cold 
regions  of  the  Arctic  zones  together  make  up  this  forbid- 
ding part  of  the  world.  Natural  societies  flourish  where 
soil  is  productive  and  elevation  is  not  too  great  an  obsta- 
cle to  industry  and  communication,  and  where  climate  is 
endurable. 

North  America.  —  So  far  as  climate  is  concerned,  nearly 
every  part  of  North  America  could  be  inhabited  by  man. 
But  there  are  large  areas  here  where  subsistence  could  not 
easily  be  obtained. 

The  Graiitless  North.  —  The  northern  limit  of  grain 
production  i^|a  Hne  that  extends  from  southeastern  Labra- 
dor to  near  the  head  of  Lake  Superior,  thence  to  the 
southern  end  of  Lake  Athabasca,  and  thence  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Fraser  River.     North  of  this  line,  the  winter  cold, 

13 


14  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

though  severe  and  prolonged,  is  not  unendurable.  The 
summer  is  warm ;  but  it  is  too  short  for  the  purposes  of  a 
varied  agriculture.  The  primeval  forests  of  this  region 
are  still  the  home  of  moose,  musk  oxen,  and  reindeer,  and 
of  many  fur-bearing  animals.  Its  rivers  and  lakes  are  well 
stocked  with  fish.  Hunting  tribes  of  Indians  can  live 
here ;  but  settlements  of  civilized  white  men  can  hardly  be 
expected  to  flourish.  So  well  informed  a  man  as  Professor 
Shaler  predicts  that  this  region  will  *'  remain  a  wilderness, 
unsought  as  the  dwelling-place  of  civilized  man." 
.  The  Western  Desert.  —  Another  part  of  North  America 
at  present  unfavourable  to  population  is  the  so-called  great 
Western  Desert.  It  is  an  arid  region  which  lies  westward 
from  the  one  hundredth  meridian  to  the  coast  ranges  of 
the  Pacific,  and  stretches  from  the  Canadian  border,  where 
it  is  nearly  a  thousand  miles  wide,  into  Mexico,  where  it  is 
three  or  four  hundred  miles  wide.  It  would  be  unsafe  to 
predict  that  this  region  will  never  be  occupied  by  a  dense 
population,  since  we  know  from  the  success  of  the  Mor- 
mon settlements  in  Utah,  that,  by  means  of  irrigation,  the 
arid  lands  may  be  made  habitable.  Indeed,  it  is  possible 
that  they  may  yet  become  the  seat  of  great  and  prosper- 
ous communities.  As  yet,  however,  the  population  of  this 
fourth  great  desert  of  the  world  is  less  than  two  inhabi- 
tants to  the  square  mile. 

The  Region  of  Fertility.  —  In  wonderful  contrast  is  the 
region  east  of  the  one  hundredth  meridian.  Here  the 
rainfall  is  greater  than  is  necessary  for  agriculture ;  and 
the  fertility  is  of  a  degree  almost  unknown  elsewhere  out- 
side of  the  tropics.  In  no  other  land  of  equal  extent  does 
the  soil  bring  forth  so  great  a  variety  of  products  fit  for 
human  use.     Nowhere  else  are  drought  and  flood  so  nar- 


WJiere  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed  15 

rowly  localized  by  topography  and  by  the  direction  of 
atmospheric  currents,  as  to  make  a  general  failure  of  the 
harvests  so  nearly  impossible.  The  population  of  this 
region  in  1790  was  3,929,214;  in  1890,  59r594>637. 

Local  Areas. — Within  this  region,  however,  is  a  great 
variety  of  conditions  and  resources  to  which  the  local  dis- 
tribution of  population  conforms. 

1.  The  Coast  Swamps.  —  One  subdivision  is  known  as 
the  Coast  Swamps.  These  are  found  along  the  South 
Atlantic  and  Gulf  coasts,  from  southeastern  Virginia  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Rio  Grande  in  Texas.  Their  greatest 
breadth,  occasionally  as  much  as  one  hundred  miles,  is  in 
North  Carolina  and  Louisiana.  While  nearly  level,  these 
swamps  have  slope  enough  for  drainage ;  and  in  the  Caro- 
linas  large  areas  of  them  are  utilized  for  rice  plantations. 
In  colonial  days  one  of  their  important  products  was 
indigo.  In  1890  the  Coast  Swamps  had  a  population  of 
21.5  to  the  square  mile.  It  was  composed  mainly  of 
negroes,  who  alone  can  successfully  withstand  the  malarial 
climate. 

2.  The  Atlantic  Plain.  —  Another  subdivision  of  the 
densely  populated  region  east  of  the  one  hundredth 
meridian  is  called  the  Atlantic  Plain.  It  is  a  strip  of 
land  lying  beyond  the  Coast  Swamps,  and  extending  to  a 
somewhat  abrupt  rise  of  the  surface  which  is  known  as  the 
fall  line,  because  from  New  York  down  to  the  Gulf  and  as 
far  as  the  Mississippi  River,  all  the  eastward-flowing  riv- 
ers at  this  line  drop  by  falls  or  rapids  from  a  higher  level 
extending  westward.  The  Atlantic  Plain  is  nearly  level, 
seldom  reaching  an  elevation  of  200  feet  above  the  sea; 
and,  except  where  cleared  by  man,  is  covered  by  a  growth 
of    pine    forests.     Long    since,  however,    most   of   it  was 


1 6  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

cleared  and  reduced  to  cultivation ;  and  it  is  now  the  seat 
of  the  chief  commercial  and  manufacturing  towns  of  the 
East.  Its  surface  is  covered  with  a  network  of  great  rail- 
road and  telegraph  lines;  and  wide  areas  of  the  rural 
spaces  between  cities  and  towns  are  devoted  to  market 
gardens  under  high  cultivation.  The  population  of  the 
Atlantic  Plain  in  1890  was  74.4  to  the  square  mile,  and 
consisted  chiefly  of  whites. 

3.  The  Piedmont  Region.  —  Next  in  density  to  the  Atlan- 
tic Plain  is  the  so-called  Piedmont  Region,  which  comprises 
a  strip  of  country  extending  from  Maine  to  Alabama,  and 
lying  between  the  fall  line  on  the  east  and  the  Blue  Ridge 
Mountains  on  the  west.  It  is  a  region  of  beautiful  scenery 
and  of  varied  products.  Its  sweet  grasses  make  it  the 
choicest  dairy  region  of  America.  It  yields  every  kind  of 
fruit  native  to  temperate  regions.  It  is  rich  also  in  min- 
eral wealth  ;  and,  in  a  good  degree,  its  water-power  is  util- 
ized in  manufacturing.  Its  population  in  1890  was  69.5  to 
the  square  mile. 

4.  Mountain  Regio7ts.  — The  population  of  the  New  Eng- 
land Hills  —  a  term  applied  to  the  northern  part  of  New 
England,  including  the  upper  counties  of  Maine,  the 
White  Mountains  of  New  Hampshire,  the  Green  Moun- 
tains of  Vermont,  and  the- Adirondacks  of  New  York,  a 
broken  mountainous  country  ranging  in  elevation  from 
1000  to  6000  feet,  and  covered  with  forests  —  was  40.7  to 
the  square  mile.  Agriculture  in  this  region  is  difficult, 
and  the  returns  are  meagre ;  but  timber  lands  and  quar- 
ries are  sources  of  wealth.  A  population  of  49.8  to  the 
square  mile  was  found  in  the  Appalachian  Mountain  re- 
gion, which  includes  the  Blue  Ridge  and  the  Appalachian 
valley  north  and  west  of  it,  and  extends  from  New  Jersey 


Where  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed         ij 

to  Alabama  and  Georgia.  The  maximum  elevation  of  this 
region,  6700  feet,  is  found  in  North  Carolina.  The  Appa- 
lachian valley  is  drained  in  New  Jersey  and  Pennsylvania 
by  the  Delaware  and  Susquehanna  rivers,  in  Virginia  by 
the  Potomac,  the  James,  and  Kanawha  rivers,  and  in 
Tennessee  by  the  Tennessee  River.  Its  occupations  and 
sources  of  wealth  are  much  like  those  of  the  New  Eng- 
land Hills. 

5.  The  Great  Plateau.  — From  the  northwestern  border 
of  the  Appalachian  valley,  rises  an  escarpment  which  ex- 
tends almost  continuously  from  northeastern  Pennsylvania 
through  Maryland,  Virginia,  and  Tennessee  into  Alabama. 
From  the  summit  of  this  escarpment  stretches  a  plateau 
with  a  general  slope  to  the  northwest.  It  is  everywhere 
deeply  scored  by  streams  flowing  in  a  northwesterly  direc- 
tion, which  have  cut  the  plateau  into  irregular  ridges  and 
gorges,  and  made  it  one  of  the  most  intricate  mountain  re- 
gions of  the  globe.  It  is  densely  covered  with  forests.  Its 
population  in  1890  was  59.3  to  the  square  mile. 

6.  Timber  and  Lake  Regions.  —  Southern  Ohio,  and  In- 
diana, the  western  half  of  Kentucky  and  Tennessee,  the 
northeastern  part  of  Mississippi,  and  parts  of  adjoining 
states  are  together  known  as  the  Interior  Timbered  Re- 
gion. Portions  of  it  have  been  cleared  and  converted  into 
prosperous  farming  areas.  Other  portions  yield  coal  and 
other  mineral  products.  Its  population  in  1890  was  44.3 
to  the  square  mile.  A  narrow  strip  of  country  bordering 
the  Great  Lakes,  and  including  parts  of  New  York,  Penn- 
sylvania, Ohio,  and  most  of  Michigan,  Wisconsin,  and 
northern  Minnesota,  is  known  as  the  Lake  Region,  be- 
cause it  has  the  characteristics  of  a  coast  climate.  The 
atmosphere  is  moist,  the  winters   abnormally  warm,  and 


1 8  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

the  summers  abnormally  cool.  This  region  is  especially 
well  adapted  to  grape-growing.  Its  population  in  1890 
was  25.1  to  the  square  mile.  In  northwestern  Arkansas, 
southwestern  Missouri,  and  the  eastern  part  of  the  Indian 
Territory,  lies  the  Ozark  Mountain  Region,  consisting  in 
Arkansas  of  a  succession  of  narrow  ranges  of  2CXX)  to 
3000  feet  in  height,  and  separated  by  broad  valleys,  and 
farther  to  the  west  of  an  area  of  confused  hills  and  valleys 
without  system.  Its  population  in  1890  was  22.8  to  the 
square  mile. 

7.  The  Southern  Alhcvial  Regiott.  —  Southward  from 
Cairo,  where  the  Ohio  joins  the  Mississippi  River,  to  the 
Coast  Swamps  of  Louisiana  stretches  the  Alluvial  Region 
of  the  Mississippi.  It  includes  parts  of  the  states  of  Mis- 
souri, Arkansas,  Mississippi,  Louisiana,  and  smaller  parts 
of  Kentucky  and  Tennessee.  Most  of  the  land  of  this  re- 
gion is  marshy  and  lies  below  the  level  of  the  water  in  the 
rivers.  The  dry  land  along  the  banks  of  the  streams  has 
been  formed  by  overflows.  Much  of  this  region  is  cov- 
ered by  forests.  The  soil  is  of  the  highest  fertility ;  but 
the  climate  is  unfavourable  to  the  white  race.  The  popula- 
tion in  1890  was  23.6  to  the  square  mile,  and  consisted 
chiefly  of  negroes. 

8.  The  Prairie  Region. — Finally,  west  of  the  Mississippi 
River,  and  east  of  the  one  hundredth  meridian,  lies  the 
granary  of  the  country,  known  as  the  Prairie  Region.  It 
comprises  a  small  portion  of  western  Indiana,  most  of 
IlHnois  and  Iowa,  southern  Wisconsin  and  Minnesota, 
northern  Missouri,  and  eastern  North  Dakota,  South  Da- 
kota, Kansas,  and  Nebraska,  and  extends  into  the  Indian 
Territory  and  Texas.  Its  surface  is  level  or  undulating, 
and  in  its  natural  state,  before  settlement  by  white  men, 


Where  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed  19 

it  was  covered  with  luxuriant  grasses.  Forests  do  not 
thrive  here  without  protection ;  but  they  are  increasing 
under  cultivation.  The  population  of  this  region  in  1890 
was  28.3  to  the  square  mile.  t. 

Pacific  Regions.  —  West  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  only 
two  regions  have  as  yet  a  population  approaching  or  ex- 
ceeding ten  inhabitants  to  the  square  mile.  The  Pacific 
valley,  lying  west  of  the  Cascade  and  Sierra  Nevada 
ranges,  and  extending  from  Puget  Sound  to  southern 
California,  has  a  population  of  9.1  to  the  square  mile. 
The  lesser  valleys  of  the  coast  ranges  themselves  are  of 
great  fertility,  and  have  a  population  of  14.3  to  the  square 
mile. 

Altitude  and  Temperature ^  as  well  as  resources,  have  their 
effect  upon  the  distribution  of  population.  The  average 
altitude  in  the  United  States  is  about  2500  feet  above  sea- 
level.  More  than  three-fourths  of  the  population,  how- 
ever, live  below  the  level  of  1000  feet  above  the  sea,  and 
more  than  nine-tenths  below  that  of  1500  feet.  Three- 
fourths  live  between  the  isotherms  of  forty-five  and  sixty 
degrees. 

Europe  and  Asia.  —  If  we  look  beyond  the  borders  of 
the  United  States,  we  find  still  more  strikingly  exemplified 
the  truth  that  population  is  dense  where  natural  resources 
are  great  and  climate  is  favourable.  In  Europe  the  areas 
of  dense  population  are  the  fertile  valleys,  of  the  Po 
in  Italy,  of  the  Rhine  in  Germany,  of  the  Seine  in 
France,  and  of  the  Thames  in  England.  In  Asia  the 
millions  of  India  and  of  China  are  concentrated  in  the 
valleys  of  the  Ganges,  the  Indus,  and  the  Yellow 
rivers. 

Agricultural  fertility,  however,  is  not  always  the  deter- 


20  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

mining  cause  of  aggregation.  Mineral  resources,  oppor- 
tunities for  manufacturing  and  trade,  may  support  vast 
populations  in  regions  which  would  hardly  produce  suffi- 
cient food  supplies  from  their  own  soil.  Such,  for  ex- 
ample, is  Belgium  with  its  population  of  nearly  550  per 
square  mile.  In  the  natural  course  of  things,  however, 
regions  which  are  capable  of  exporting  food  become,  in 
time,  centres  of  dense  population  if  commerce  and  manu- 

'  factures  are  locally  developed  on  the  basis  of  the  agricult- 
ural resources.  Thus,  at  the  present  time,  the  countries 
that  export  wheat  in  great  quantities  are  the  United  States, 
Russia,  India,  Australia,  and  the  Argentine  Republic ; 
and  these  are  the  countries  which  are,  on  the  whole,  most 
rapidly  increasing  in  population. 

Primary  and  Secondary  Sources  of  Subsistence.  — The  mass- 
ing of  population  at  any  given  point  is  itself  a  condition 
favourable  to  further  aggregation,  because  it  affords  pro- 
tection to  individuals,  and  makes  possible  the  development 
of  those  forms  of  cooperation  which  most  rapidly  increase 

\  wealth.  Civilized  populations  in  particular  are,  to  a  great 
extent,  distributed  with  reference  to  these  artificial  condi- 
tions. The  strictly  primitive  means  of  subsistence  are 
edible  fruits,  grains,  roots,  fish,  and  game  in  their  natural 
state.  Human  beings  unacquainted  with  the  arts  of  agri- 
culture and  manufacture  could  live  only  where  these 
strictly  natural  food  supplies  could  be  obtained.  Foods 
preserved  and  stored  up  are  a  secondary  means  of  subsist- 
ence which  enable  men  to  engage  in  other  than  extractive 
industries.  The  tendency  everywhere  observed  is  to  ac- 
cumulate the  secondary  means  of  subsistence  in  great 
cities,  where  the  secondary  occupations  of  commerce 
and  manufacture  can  be  carried  on  to  advantage.      For 


WJiere  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed         21 

this  reason  cities  are  becoming  powerful  centres  of  at- 
traction. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

»■ 

In  the  volumes  of  the  "American  Commonwealths"  Series,  study  the 

history  of  the  settlement  and  development,  by  a  white  population,  of 
the  local  areas  described  in  this  chapter. 


CHAPTER   III 
How  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed 

Two  Ways  of  Increase.  —  We  have  seen  where  aggrega- 
tions of  people  are  formed.  Let  us  now  notice  how  they 
are  formed. 

Everyday  observation  shows  us  that  there  are  two  ways 
in  which  populations  increase.  One  is  by  the  birth  of  new 
individuals,  the  other  is  by  immigration  from  populations 
dwelling  in  other  parts  of  the  world.  The  first  way,  if  birth 
rates  exceed  death"  rates,  increases  the  total  population  of 
the  world.  The  second  method  merely  redistributes  it, 
increasing  some  populations  at  the  expense  of  others. 

Genetic  Aggregation.  —  At  the  present  time,  different 
populations  are  increasing  by  births  in  excess  of  deaths  in 
very  unequal  degrees.  According  to  the  census  of  1890, 
the  United  States  has  an  annual  birth  rate  for  the  whole 
population  of  26.68  per  thousand.  The  rate  for  whites 
alone  is  26.35  ;  for  the  coloured  it  is  29.07.  The  death  rate 
is  given  as  19.64  per  thousand  for  the  whole  population  ; 
as  17.00  per  thousand  for  native-born  whites  of  native 
parents  ;  as  24.42  per  thousand  for  native-born  whites  of 
foreign  parents  ;  as  19.85  per  thousand  for  foreign-born 
whites ;  and  as  19.57  per  thousand  for  the  coloured.  These 
figures,  which  probably  understate  the  birth  rate  and  are 
not  altogether  accurate  for  the  death  rate,  show  a  rapid 
net  increase  of  population  by  birth.    The  United  Kingdom 

22 


How  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed  23 

has  a  birth  rate  of  29.9  per  thousand,  and  a  death  rate  of 
19. 1,  leaving  a  large  annual  increase.  Germany  has  a 
birth  rate  of  36.7  and  a  death  rate  of  24.6.  Austria  has 
a  birth  rate  of  36.2  and  a  death  rate  of  2^.8.  Italy  has  a 
birth  rate  of  36.6  and  a  death  rate  of  25.3.  Thus  it  ap- 
pears that  all  these  countries  are  rapidly  increasing  in 
population  by  births  in  excess  of  deaths. 

The  most  remarkable  extremes  are  those  of  Norway 
and  France.  Norway  has  a  birth  rate  of  30.7  and  a  death 
rate  of  only  16.4;  France  has  a  birth  rate  of  only  22.1  and 
a  death  rate,  in  1892,  of  22.6,  showing  in  that  year  an 
actual  slight  decrease  of  population. 

A  population  reproduced  by  its  birth  rate  irrespective  of 
immigration  may  be  called  a  genetic  aggregation.  More 
strictly  defined,  a  genetic  aggregation  is  a  group  of  kin- 
dred  individuals  that  have  lived  together  in  one  locality 
from  their  birth. 

The  smallest  genetic  aggregation  is  merely  a  natural 
family  composed  of  parents  and  their  children  of  the  first 
generation.  A  larger  genetic  group  is  an  aggregation  of 
two  or  three  generations  of  descendants  of  a  single  pair. 
On  a  scale  yet  larger  and  more  complex,  the  genetic  group 
is  an  aggregation  of  families  that  may  have  been  related 
or  not  at  some  former  time,  but  that  now  are  undoubtedly 
of  one  blood  through  marrying  in  and  in. 

In  taking  the  form  of  genetic  aggregations,  human 
populations  reproduce  the  chief  mode  of  aggregation 
among  lower  forms  of  animal  life,  a  patient  observation  of 
which  richly  rewards  the  student  of  Sociology.  The  great 
colonies  of  social  insects  —  ants,  bees,  and  wasps  —  are 
genetic  aggregations  of  a  simple  sort.  Unfortunately,  it  is 
impossible  to  know  how  far  the  schools  of  fish,  the  flocks 


24  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

of  birds,  the  herds  or  bands  of  gregarious  mammals,  are 
merely  genetic  aggregations.  It  is  certain  that,  to  some 
extent,  they  are  of  mixed  origin. 

In  many  respects,  the  uncivilized  tribal  societies  of  mafi- 
kind  are  the  most  nearly  perfect  of  all  examples  of  genetic 
aggregation.  Their  whole  scheme  of  social  organization, 
presently  to  be  explained,  is  based  on  kinship. 

In  civilization  each  nation,  and  within  the  nation  each 
town  and  hamlet,  is,  in  a  great  degree,  a  genetic  aggrega- 
tion. The  population  of  England  so  far  as  it  is  of  English 
blood,  the  population  of  Ireland  so  far  as  it  is  of  Irish 
blood,  the  population  of  Hungary  so  far  as  it  is  of 
Magyar  blood,  are  in  a  broad  sense  of  the  term  genetic 
aggregations. 

No  large  community,  however,  is  a  pure  genetic  aggre- 
gation. To  be  and  to  maintain  itself  as  such,  it  would  be 
necessary  that  no  individuals  should  come  into  the  group 
from  groups  dwelling  elsewhere,  and  that,  therefore, 
all  marriages  should  be  contracted  between  individuals 
already  belonging  to  the  community.  In  the  United  States 
and  in  other  countries  there  are  small  local  communities 
which  are  nearly,  though  never  quite,  pure  genetic  aggre- 
gations. Such,  for  example,  are  the  Acadian  settlements 
of  Louisiana,  many  of  the  Pennsylvania  Dutch  commu- 
nities, many  of  the  smaller  Quaker  hamlets  of  the  same 
state,  and  many  of  the  Canadian- French  hamlets  of  the 
province  of  Quebec. 

When  individuals  continue  to  live  where  they  were  born 
and  for  generations  to  intermarry,  it  is  usually  because  the 
region  is  one  of  abundant  resources,  or  because  of  mental 
inertia.  The  effective  desire  to  seek  fortune  elsewhere  is 
lacking.      Sometimes,   however,  close  intermarriage  is  a 


How  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed  25 

consequence  of  some  peculiarity  of  religious  or  political 
belief. 

Congregation.  —  The  growth  of  a  population  by  immi- 
gration is  a  process  of  congregation ;  and  dt  may  be  called 
bylHat  name  to  distinguish  it  from  genetic  aggregation. 
It  is  a  gathering  in  one  place  or  area  of  individuals  from 
many  other  places,  or  even  from  remote  parts  of  the 
world,  who  are  attracted  by  the  resources  or  other  oppor- 
tunities of  a  new  home. 

Even  more  unequal  than  the  increase  of  different  popu- 
lations by  births  in  excess  of  deaths,  is  their  increase  by 
immigration.  The  so-called  new  countries  where  vast 
resources  are  yet  unexhausted,  and  unlimited  opportunities 
seem  to  be  offered  to  the  adventurous  and  enterprising, 
most  strongly  attract  population  from  its  older  centres. 
On  the  one  hand,  the  United  States,  Australia,  Africa,  and 
the  Argentine  Republic  are  to-day  the  countries  which  are 
most  rapidly  gaining  population  by  immigration.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  United  Kingdom,  with  an  excess  of  births 
over  deaths  of  452,000  per  annum,  loses  32.7  per  cent  of 
it  by  emigration;  Germany,  with  an  excess  of  537,000  per 
annum,  loses  20.  i  per  cent  of  it  in  like  manner  ;  Sweden, 
with  56,000,  loses  50  per  cent ;  Norway,  with  28,000, 
loses  55.4  per  cent;  Switzerland,  with  22,000,  loses  34.1 
per  cent;  Denmark,  with  27,000,  loses  22.2  per  cent; 
France,  with  92,000,  loses  5.1  per  cent. 

Congregation  is  a  local  no  less  than  a  national  or 
general  phenomenon.  Wherever  new  opportunities  are 
opened,  men  rush  to  them  from  every  quarter.  In  i860 
families  moved  from  every  Eastern  state  into  the  oil  fields 
of  Pennsylvania.  In  1877  the  town  of  Leadville,  in  Col- 
orado, sprang  up  with  almost  incredible  rapidity,  to  dis- 


26  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

f 
appear   a   few  years   later   as   quickly.     In  1889,   50,000 

** boomers"  poured  into  Oklahoma  in  a  single  day;  and 
in  1893  the  scene  was  repeated  by  90,000  like  advent- 
urers. The  cosmopolitan  city  of  Johannesburg,  with 
50,000  inhabitants,  sprang  up  in  seven  years  on  the  deso- 
late steppe  of  the  Transvaal,  in  the  heart  of  the  gold- 
bearing  region  of  Africa. 

\      Emigration,  immigration,  and  congregation,  like  genetic 

aggregation,  in    populations   of   civilized   men   reproduce 

I    the  habits  of  the  lower  animals,  of  savages,  and  of  bar- 

(    barians  —  all  of  whom  were  wanderers  on  the  earth  for 

B   ages  before  civilized  man  appeared. 

""  Detachment  from  the  parent  group  results  from  an  in- 
crease of  animal  energy  as  commonly  and  as  certainly  as 
does  procreation.  Flocks  and  herds  in  any  given  habitat 
have  a   normal  size  which  is  a  phase  of  the  established 

.  equilibrium  of  nature,  and  which  is  maintained,  as  num- 
bers increase  by  birth,  by  throwing  off  small  bands  that 
seek  new  feeding  grounds.  There  they  meet  and  com- 
mingle with  groups  from  other  birthplaces,  attracted  like 
themselves  by  the  food  supplies,  the  nesting  places,  or 
other  advantages  of  the  new  habitat.  The  congregating 
of  the  mammalia  is  governed  in  part  by  the  distribution 
of  such  necessaries  of  their  lives  as  water  and  salt.  Prob- 
ably the  most  remarkable  of  all  congregations,  however, 
is  the  enormous  aggregation  of  migrating  birds  and  ani- 
mals in  high  northern  latitudes  during  the  short  Arctic 
summer. 

In  savagery  there  is  a  pressure  from  all  directions 
towards  the  best  hunting  and  fishing  grounds,  which 
brings  unacquainted  or  unrelated  bands  into  contact,  and 
causes  chronic  hostility.     The  frightful  struggles  between 


How  Aggregations  of  People  are  Formed  27 

Algonquin  and  Iroquois  tribes  before  the  European  settle- 
ment of  North  America  were  an  incident  of  their  conver- 
gence upon  the  valley  of  the  Mohawk.  The  valleys  of 
the  Delaware,  the  Ohio,  the  upper  Mississippi,  the  Colum- 
bia, and  the  Colorado  rivers  were  repeatedly  the  centres 
of  similar  converging  movements  and  the  scenes  of  exter- 
minating wars. 

Among  more  advanced  peoples,  congregation  has  usually 
been  the  initial  step  in  their  history,  as  when  Semitic, 
Hamitic,  and  Aryan  tribes  pushed  into  Palestine,  or  as 
when  Germanic  tribes  pushed  into  England. 

Primary  and  Seco7idary  Congregation.  —  For  the  pur- 
poses of  sociological  study  it  is  necessary  to  distinguish 
between  a  primary  and  a  secondary  congregation.  By 
the  first  of  these  terms  we  designate  a  coming  together 
of  individuals  or  families,  that,  although  strangers  and 
hitherto  widely  scattered,  are  yet  remotely  related,  being' 
perhaps  of  the  same  nationality,  or,  at  least,  of  the  same 
race.  By  secondary  congregation  we  mean  a  coming  to- 
gether of  different  nationalities  or  races.  It  is  secondary 
because  the  unlike  stocks  have  themselves  been  produced 
by  an  earlier  or  preliminary  congregation  of  elements  less 
unlike.  The  mingling  of  immigrants  in  the  United  States 
shows  us  both  the  primary  and  the  secondary  forms  of 
congregation  on  a  great  scale. 

Causes  of  Aggregation.  —  We  are  now  prepared  to  say,  in 
somewhat  more  scientific  terms,  how  aggregations  of  peo- 
ple are  formed.  The  physical  surface  of  the  earth,  and 
the  living  creatures  that  dwell  on  it,  are  continually  acting 
and  reacting  upon  one  another.  Animal  life,  including 
that  of  human  beings,  derives  its  energy  from  the  food 
supply  and  the  atmosphere  and  sunshine  of  the  land  where 


28  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

it  dwells.  This  energy  is  expended  in  three  ways.  The 
first  is  in  the  search  for,  and  appropriation  of,  new  food 
supplies   to  maintain  the  life  already  in  existence.     The 

',  second  is  in  reproduction,  the  birth  of  new  individuals,'^ 
and  a  birth  rate  in  excess  of  death  rate  may  always  be 
taken  as  a  rough  measure  of  the  surplus  vitality  of  any 
species,  race,  or  group.  The  third  way  is  in  wandering 
and  adventure.  It  is  this  latter  expenditure  of  energy  that 
takes  the  form  of  emigration  and  congregation. 

Populations  are  formed,  then,  by  genetic  aggregation 
and  by  congregation.  The  place  where  a  population 
dwells  is  determined  by  physical  conditions,  and  espe- 
cially by  food-producing  resources.  But  the  cause  of  the 
formation  of  the  population  itself  is  found  in  the  processes 

j  of  genetic  and  congregate  grouping. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

In  Mayo-Smith's  "Statistics  and  Sociology,"  study  Chapters  V,  VII, 
and  XIV. 


CHAPTER  IV 

The  Composition  and  the   Unity  of  a  Social   Popu- 
lation 

Demotic  Composition.  —  Because  genetic  aggregation  is 
practically  never  the  only  way  in  which  a  population 
grows,  a  population  is  always  a  mixture  and  composition 
of  elements  more  or  less  unlike.  This  proposition  is 
not  in  contradiction  of  the  statement  made  in  the  first 
chapter,  that  a  population  is  composed  of  individuals  in 
many  respects  alike.  Likeness  and  unlikeness  are  facts 
of  degree.  Moreover,  individuals  may  be  alike  in  some 
respects  and  unlike  in  others.  These  facts,  of  degrees 
and  kinds  of  resemblance,  will  receive  attention  later  on. 

Usually  the  unlikeness  of  the  elements  of  a  popula- 
tion extends  to  differences  of  nationality,  and  often  to 
differences  of  race.  This  is  true  of  all  modern  nations, 
and  especially  true  of  the  people  of  the  United  States. 

The  intermingling  of  elements  bred  of  different  parent 
stocks  and  having,  therefore,  unlike  qualities  and  habits, 
may  be  called  the  demotic  composition.  The  word 
"  demotic "  means  pertaining  to  the  demos ^  the  Greek 
word  for  people.  The  demotic  composition,  therefore,  > 
is  the  admixture  of  various  elements  of  nationality  and 
race  in  a  people  or  population. 

It  is  the  ceaseless  emigration  of  individuals  that  creates 
in  modern  civil  communities   a   demotic   composition  on 

29 


30  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

the  greatest  scale.  In  the  United  States,  in  1890,  there 
were  9,249,547  foreign-born  inhabitants.  Since  1820 
1 5,427,657  immigrants,  drawn  by  the  life  opportunities  that 
are  here  offered,  have  come  to  this  country  from  Eng- 
land, Ireland,  Scotland,  Germany,  Norway,  Sweden,  Italy, 
and  other  lands.  Besides  all  these  diverse  elements,  the 
United  States  has  7,470,040  negroes  and  248,253  Indians. 

In  the  distribution  of  native  and  foreign  born  elements, 
no  peculiarity  of  situation,  industry,  government,  or  faith 
prevents  the  normal  intermingling.  Thus,  in  Utah,  pre- 
vious to  1880,  polygamy  was  still  practised  and  encour- 
aged by  the  dominant  Mormon  church;  and  by  most  of 
the  Gentile  world,  polygamy  was  abhorred.  Nevertheless, 
the  census  of  1880  found  that  while  69.5  per  cent  of  the 
population  of  Utah  was  born  within  the  United  States, 
13.7  per  cent  had  come  from  England,  5.4  per  cent 
from  Denmark,  2.6  per  cent  from  Sweden,  2.2  per  cent 
from  Scotland,  1.7  per  cent  from  Wales,  .9  per  cent  from 
Ireland,  .8  per  cent  from  Norway,  .7  per  cent  from 
Switzerland,  .7  per  cent  from  British  North  America, 
.6  per  cent  from  Germany,  and  1.2  per  cent  from  other 
countries. 

Every  local  community,  as  well  as  every  country,  shows 
this  heterogeneity  of  population;  and  every  great  city 
shows  it  conspicuously.  In  each  1000  inhabitants  of 
London,  630  are  natives  of  that  city,  307  are  from  other 
parts  of  England  and  Wales,  21  are  from  Ireland,  21 
are  from  foreign  countries,  13  are  from  Scotland,  7  are 
from  the  Colonies,  and  i  is  from  the  islands  in  the 
British  seas.  But  no  demotic  composition,  modern  or 
ancient,  can  be  compared  with  that  of  New  York  City. 
Within  that  part  of  New  York  City  which  is   included 


The  Composition  and  Unity  of  a  Social  Population     31 

in  New  York  County,  which  is  substantially  though  not 
precisely  the  borough  of  Manhattan,  the  composition  of 
the  639,943  foreign-born  is  as  follows :  natives  of  Canada 
and  Newfoundland,  8398;  of  South  America,  471;  of 
Cuba  and  the  West  Indies,  2202;  of  Ireland,  190,418; 
of  England,  35,907;  of  Scotland,  11,242;  of  Wales,  965 ; 
of  Germany,  210,723;  of  Austria,  27,193;  of  Holland, 
1384;  of  Belgium,  626;  of  Switzerland,  4953;  of  Nor- 
way, 1575;  of  Sweden,  7069;  of  Denmark,  1495;  of 
Russia,  48,790;  of  Hungary,  12,222;  of  Bohemia,  8099; 
of  Poland,  6759;  of  France,  10,535;  of  Italy,  39,951;  of 
Spain,  ZZy ;  of  China,  2048 ;  of  Australia,  342 ;  of  Euro- 
pean countries  not  specified,  3364;  born  at  sea,  135; 
natives  of  all  other  countries,  1890.  Next  after  New 
York,  Chicago,  perhaps,  contains  the  most  interesting 
mixture  of  nationalities.  A  map  of  the  region  bounded 
by  Polk,  State,  Twelfth,  and  Halstead  streets,  prepared 
by  the  residents  of  Hull  House,  shows  eighteen  nationali- 
ties living,  in  1894,  within  that  district,  one  mile  long  by 
one-third  of  a  mile  wide. 

Autogeny.  —  We  will  now  return  to  the  assertion  that, 
notwithstanding  this  remarkable  unlikeness  in  the  ele- 
ments of  a  population,  a  population  is  characterized  by 
the  likeness  rather  than  by  the  unlikeness  of  its  elements. 
Colonies  and  new  cities  in  the  first  or  second  generation 
of  their  existence  are  occasionally  exceptions.  All  other 
populations  are  perpetuated  mainly  by  their  birth  rate 
rather  than  by  immigration.  For  the  purposes  of  Sociol- 
ogy we  may  designate  this  fact  by  a  technical  term,  and 
say  that  a  population  is  normally  autogenous,  that  is, 
self-generating,  self-perpetuating. 
•     Notwithstanding    the   enormous   immigration   into    the 


32  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

United  States,  by  far  the  greater  proportion  of  the 
63,000,000  inhabitants  who  were  counted  in  the  eleventh 
census  were  born  within  our  territorial  limits.  Most  of 
them  had  in  their  veins  at  least  some  mixture  of  the 
blood  of  the  colonists  and  of  those  Europeans  who  came 
to  America  before  1821.  In  like  manner,  while  there  is 
an  increasing  mobility  of  population  from  state  to  state, 
from  country  to  city,  and  from  town  to  town,  each  local 
community  is  perpetuated  mainly  by  its  birth  rate.  New 
York  City  had,  in  1890,  875,358  native-born  inhabitants 
to  overbalance  her  639,943  foreign-born.  The  popula- 
tion of  Greater  London  was  increased  during  the  ten 
years  1871-80  by  574,385  births  in  excess  of  deaths, 
and  by  306,635  accessions  from  without,  in  excess  of 
emigration.  The  same  relation  of  natural  increase  to 
immigration  is  true  of  other  cities,  of  smaller  towns, 
and  of  all  countries,  though  the  proportions  vary  in- 
definitely. 

Thus  every  population,  while  it  has  a  demotic  composi- 
>/  tion,  and  presents  many  species  of  unlikeness  among  its 
component  individuals,  is  after  all  a  unity.  To  a  great 
extent  of  one  blood,  its  members  are  always  tending  by 
intermarriage  to  become  more  and  more  homogeneous  in 
this  respect.  At  the  same  time,  this  tendency  is  being 
counteracted  by  new  accessions  of  heterogeneous  elements 
from  without.  The  differences,  however,  are  quantitatively 
less  than  the  agreements.  Likeness  overbalances  the  un- 
likeness. The  likeness,  as  we  shall  see  later  on,  is  the 
basis  and  cause  of  social  cohesion  or  unity.  The  unlike- 
ness is  the  cause  of  variation  and  progress.  Only  as  both 
are  present  in  a  social  population  can  there  develop  a 
;     society  at  once  stable  and  progressive. 


The  Composition  and  Unity  of  a  Social  Population     33 


PARALLEL  STUDY 

Using  the  "  Compendium  of  the  Eleventh  Census  "  of  the  United  States 
and  outline  maps,  make  shaded  or  coloured  maps  shpwing  the  demotic 
composition  of  the  United  States  as  a  whole,  and  in  greater  detail,  that 
of  the  several  commonwealths. 


CHAPTER  V 

The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii 

Simple  Activities.  —  Thus  far  we  have  observed  popula- 
tion in  its  physical  aspect  only.  We  have  looked  at  it  as 
consisting  of  a  number  of  living  objects  found  together  in 
certain  places,  and  have  examined  the  origin  and  the  kinds 
of  these  objects,  and  the  proportions  in  which  different 
kinds  are  combined.  We  have  now  to  recall  the  fact  that 
these  living  objects  are  conscious  individuals,  who  think 
and  feel ;  who  have  appetites,  desires,  passions ;  who  form 
purposes  in  life  and  try  to  achieve  them.     It  is  with  these 

.  mental  facts,  rather  than  with  the  physical  ones,  that  we 
\are  chiefly  concerned  in  the  study  of  Sociology. 

The  sociologist,  however,  does  not  study  the  mental 
facts  presented  by  a  population  for  the  purpose  of  under- 
standing the  human  mind.  That  is  the  business  of  the 
psychologist.  The  sociologist  is  interested  in  the  prac- 
tical activities  that  spring  from  thought  and  desire.  What 
men  do,  how  they  behave  toward  one  another  and  with 
one  another,  how  they  form  groups  and  unite  in  common 
action,  —  these,  as  has  already  been  explained  in  the  first 

^  chapter,  are  some  of  the  important  questions  of  Sociology. 

'^  The  social  activities  of  a  population  arc  not  by  any 
means  the  whole  of  the  practical  activities  in  which  the 
population  engages.  There  are  many  kinds  of  useful 
work  which  are,  or  might  be,    carried  on  by  individuals 

34 


i 


The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii  35 

without  social  cooperation.  There  are  also  modes  of  con- 
duct  that  are  called  moral,  and  that  are  studied  by  the 
student  of  Ethics,  some  of  which  do  not  depend  for  their 
existence  upon  social  conditions.  Therefor^',  that  we  may 
understand  just  what  the  social  facts  of  life  are,  and  how 
they  are  related  to  facts  of  other  kinds,  we  must  glance  at 
the  whole  field  of  man's  practical  activity. 

We  have  seen  that  population  is  increased  from  two 
sources;  namely,  birth  and  immigration.  There  is  no  bet- 
ter way  of  discovering  what  are  the  important  practical 
activities  of  mankind  than  by  observing,  first,  what  things 
children  become  interested  in,  learn  to  do,  and  are  taught 
to  do  as  they  grow  to  manhood;  and,  secondly,  what  things 
immigrants  become  interested  in  and  learn  to  do  as  they 
become  adapted  to  the  ways  and  conditions  of  their 
adopted  country. 

App7'eciation.  —  The  first  years  of  a  child's  life  are  oc- 
cupied chiefly  in  getting  acquainted  with  people  and 
things,  and  establishing  preferences  —  that  is  to  say,  likes 
and  dislikes.  The  child,  however,  does  not  get  used  to 
the  world  into  which  he  has  been  born  by  learning  about 
people  and  things  in  an  entirely  indiscriminate  fashion. 
It  is  true  that  from  the  first  he  has  experiences  of  contact 
with  objects  of  many  different  kinds,  living  and  non-living. 
But  some  experiences  are  repeated  so  much  more  fre- 
quently than  others  that  he  gets  really  familiar  with  cer- 
tain groups  of  things  in  the  external  world  long  before  he 
learns  much  about  others.  The  group  that  he  has  most 
frequent  experience  of  and  first  learns  to  know  well  is 
made  up  of  those  living  beings  who  are  nearest  to  him  and 
are  usually  closely  related  to  him  as  kindred.  His  mother 
and  father,  brothers  and  sisters,  and  his  nurse  he  knows 


36  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

better  than  he  knows  any  other  class  of  objects  in  the 
world.  But  not  only  does  he  know  them  better ;  in  an  even 
greater  degree  does  he  care  more  for  them.  However 
fond  he  may  be  of  his  toys  and  various  articles  of  house- 
hold furniture  with  which  he  amuses  himself,  he  is  usually 
ready  to  leave  them  to  go  to  his  mother  for  love  and 
caresses,  or  to  his  brothers  and  sisters  for  play. 

Next  to  these  kindred  beings,  he  learns  to  know  fairly 
well  other  human  beings  who,  from  time  to  time,  come 
into  the  household.  Among  these  he  discriminates  with 
liking  and  disliking,  usually  showing  strong  preferences. 
To  some  strangers  he  goes  readily,  showing  a  fearless 
willingness  to  adopt  them  into  his  little  circle  of  friends. 
With  others  he  will  have  nothing  whatever  to  do. 

It  is  not  until  after  these  gradations  of  human  acquaint- 
ance and  preference  have  been  well  established  that  the 
child  learns  with  any  accuracy  of  detail  the  inorganic 
world  which  is  so  different  from  his  own  personality. 
Indeed,  the  great  majority  of  human  beings  never,  in  all 
their  lives,  do  learn  the  inorganic  world  with  any  such 
accuracy  of  knowledge  as  they  learn  their  fellow-men. 
The  great  truths  of  human  nature  were  commonplaces  of 
popular  philosophy  for  ages  before  mankind  had  any  true 
knowledge  of  the  material  constitution  of  the  inorganic 
world.  For  many  years  of  his  immature  life  the  child 
thinks  of  inanimate  objects  as  if  they  were  in  some  degree 
personal  like  himself.  He  talks  to  them,  gets  angry  with 
them,  or  approves  of  them,  quite  as  he  would  do  with  one 
of  his  living  playmates. 

How  is  it  with  the  immigrant.!*     His  first  experiences  inj 
I  the  new  land  of  his  choice  are  curiously  like  the  child'i 
»  first  experiences  in  the  world.     Like  the  child,  the  immi* 


The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii  37 

grant  first  learns  to  know  well,  and  shows  a  strong  pref- 
erence for  those  human  beings  who  are  of  his  own  kin- 
dred. He  associates  with  the  men  and  women  of  his  own 
nationality  and  speech,  who  have  come  t(*  the  new  land 
before  him,  and  have  not  yet  forgotten  their  mother 
tongue  or  the  ideas  and  habits  of  their  fatherland.  With 
these  people  the  immigrant  feels  at  home ;  and  for  a  long 
time  he  is  loath  to  break  away  from  their  hospitality  and 
influence. 

Little  by  little,  however,  he  becomes  acquainted  with 
the  men  and  women  of  another  nationality  and  speech, 
the  native  inhabitants  of  the  country.  He  feels  that  they 
are  much  less  like  himself  in  ideas  and  habits  than  are 
his  own  countrymen.  But  he  gradually  gets  used  to 
them,  and  finds  that  he  is  establishing  in  his  own  mind 
many  likes  and  dislikes  towards  these  new  acquaintances 
and  their  ways. 

Last  of  all,  he  begins  to  be  familiar  with  the  new  coun- 
try itself,  its  resources,  products,  the  details  of  its  geogra- 
phy, its  railways,  buildings,  machinery.  The  chances 
are,  however,  that  he  never  learns  this  latter  group  of 
facts  thoroughly  well. 

Thus  both  the  child  and  the  immigrant  find  that  their 
first  business  in  life  is  to  get  used  to  the  world  in  which  y 
they  themselves  are  living.  This  process  of  getting  used  is 
partly  intellectual;  it  consists  partly  in  acquiring  know- 
ledge ;  but  it  includes  also  something  more.  With  the 
knowledge  is  mixed  a  great  deal  of  preference,  of  liking  and 
disliking.  With  every  act  of  learning  some  degree  of  pref- 
erential feeling  is  combined.  In  a  rough  way,  every 
person  and  everything  that  is  brought  into  the  widen- 
ing circle  of    acquaintance  is  valued,  and  is    assigned  a 


38  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

certain  place  in  a  scale  of  values.  This  mental  process 
in  which  knowledge,  preference,  and  valuation  are  com- 
bined may  be  called  appreciation.  It  is  not  that  critical 
appreciation  which  we  look  for  in  the  artist,  the  poet, 
or  the  scientific  man,  and  of  which  we  shall  have  more 
to  say  presently.  It  is  a  rough,  preliminary,  practically 
useful  appreciation  which  serves  every  man  as  a  mental 
guide  for  the  purposes  of  everyday  life. 

^  ^    The  first  great  practical  activity  of  life,  then,  is  appre- 

^^       ciation. 

Utilization.  —  The  second  interest  that  appears  in  the 
child's  life  has  to  do  with  the  uses  that  he  can  make  of 
things  and  of  persons.  * 

As  rapidly  as  he  learns  about  persons  and  things,  and 
finds  himself  regarding  them  with  different  degrees  of 
pleasure  or  approval,  he  begins  to  try  experiments  with 
them.  He  tries  to  see  what  he  can  do  with  each  new 
object  that  comes  within  his  reach.  These  experiments 
are  attended  with  different  degrees  of  success.  A  great 
many  things  he  can  play  with  as  he  wills.  Others  resist 
his  attempts,  and  cause  him  the  disappointment  of  thwarted 
effort.  On  the  whole,  he  finds  that  he  can  exercise  his 
,  own  will  more  successfully  over  that  group  of  things 
which  he  learns  last  of  all  to  appreciate  —  namely,  the 
inanimate  objects  that  are  least  like  himself;  and  that  his 
efforts  to  control,  adapt,  and  use  are  least  successful 
when  applied  to  those  objects  which  he  first  learns  to 
appreciate  —  namely,  the  persons  of  his  own  kindred  who 
are  most  like  himself. 

The  immigrant  comes  to  a  new  country  with  habits  of 
controlling  and  using  things  in  the  world  about  him 
already  formed.     Nevertheless,  among  his  very  early  ex- 


The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii  39 

periences  in  his  new  home  are  those  of  being  brought 
into  contact  with  new  objects  and  circumstances  which 
he  had  previously  known  only  in  surmise  or  imagination. 
As  rapidly  as  he  learns  about  these  new  things,  and  finds 
himself  regarding  them  with  different  degrees  of  liking 
or  disliking,  he  does  exactly  as  the  child  does  in  his  out- 
look upon  the  world.  He  tries  many  experiments  with 
the  new  things  that  surround  him,  and  the  new  circum- 
stances in  which  he  is  placed.  New  kinds  of  food  are 
offered  to  him  and  he  tries  them.  New  kinds  of  clothing 
appeal  to  him  ;  and  these  also  he  tries.  New  amusements, 
too,  are  offered,  and  new  forms  of  occupation,  many  of 
which  he  experiments  with  almost  as  persistently  and 
unsystematically  as  the  child  does  with  his  toys. 

Now  all  of  these  experiments  by  both  the  child  and  the 
immigrant    have   one   common   characteristic :    they   are 
attempts  to  use  the  external  world,  to  adapt  the  things  ^ 
which  it  contains  to  one's  own  purposes,  to  control  and 
apply  them  as  one  likes. 

To  this  process  of  trying  to  control,  adapt,  and  use  the 
things  of  the  external  world,  we  may  give  the  name  utiliza- 
tion. 

Utilization,  then,  is  the  second  great  practical  activity  of  \\2^ 
life. 

Characterization.  —  It  was  said  a  moment  ago  that  the 
child's  attempts  to  make  use  of  things  and  persons  are 
sometimes  unsuccessful.  Many  disappointments  attend 
his  early  experimenting  with  the  objects  that  make  up  his 
little  world.  On  a  larger  scale  this  is  true  also  of  the  im- 
migrant's first  efforts  to  appropriate  and  enjoy  the  new 
things  and  the  new  objects  among  which  he  finds  himself 
placed  in  the  new  home.     He  encounters  many  rebuffs ; 


\ 


40  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

he  fails  in  many  undertakings ;  and  he  is  often  obliged  to 
abandon  cherished  plans  and  to  form  new  ones  better 
adapted  to  the  circumstances  of  his  position. 

These  failures  and  disappointments,  whether  they  affect 
the  child  or  the  immigrant,  have  certain  important  conse- 
quences. They  act  upon  the  character  of  the  unsuccess- 
ful or  disappointed  person.  If  he  is  morally  weak  and 
has  but  little  will  power,  he  may  become  discouraged  and 
continue  through  life  to  fail  in  nearly  everything  that  he 
undertakes.  But  if  he  is  strong,  and  resolute,  and  quick- 
witted, his  experiences  have  a  different  effect.  Failure 
only  strengthens  his  resolution  to  try  again.  Ill  success 
leads  him  to  reflect  upon  the  causes  of  his  failure,  and 
discover  how  he  can  do  better  another  time.  Mentally 
and  morally  he  changes,  as  a  result  of  his  imperfect  at- 
tempts to  change  and  adapt  the  things  about  him.  While 
trying  to  adapt  the  world  to  himself,  he  also  begins  to 
adapt  himself  to  the  world.  He  learns  to  be  persistent, 
to  control  his  temper,  to  face  disappointment  bravely,  and 
to  be  ready  at  all  times  to  abandon  an  imperfect  plan  and 
adopt  another  that  promises  better  results.  All  these  are 
changes  in  his  own  character. 

This  kind  of  activity  which  consists  in  so  shaping  one's 
own  character  as  to  make  it  more  and  more  nearly  adapted 
to  the  kind  of  world  in  which  one  lives,  may  be  called  char- 
acterization. 

The  third  great  practical  activity  of  life,  then,  is  charac- 
^terization. 

Socialization.  —  When  the  child  encounters  disappoint- 
ment, or  finds  that  he  has  undertaken  tasks  too  great  for 
his  strength,  or  too  complicated  for  his  wisdom,  he  turns 
for  comfort,  or  help,  or  guidance,  to  those  persons  of  his 


The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii  41 

own  kindred  whom,  in  the  process  of  appreciation,  he  has 
already  learned  to  love  and  trust  before  all  others.  Al- 
though, in  the  attempts  to  use  and  control  the  objects 
about  him,  he  has  learned  that  he  cannot  do  as  he  wills 
with  these  persons  who  are  his  kindred,  he  now  discovers 
that  they  are  always  ready  to  help  and  advise  him  in  his 
moments  of  trouble.  Acting  on  this  discovery,  he  begins 
to  extend  and  to  cultivate  his  acquaintance  with  a  new 
interest  and  purpose.  His  motive  is  no  longer  a  mere 
curiosity  to  know  and  an  instinct  to  prefer.  It  is  a  desire  /^ 
for  sympathy  and  for  help.  A  little  later,  when  he  has 
passed  from  the  home  life  into  the  larger  circle  of  the 
school  and  schoolmates,  he  continues  to  carry  on  the 
selective  cultivation  of  acquaintances  and  friends.  It  has 
now  become  a  large  part  of  his  daily  interest  to  develop 
these  social  relations. 

Very  similar,  indeed,  are  the  experiences  of  the  immi- 
grant in  the  land  of  his  adoption.  He  too,  in  days  of  dis- 
appointment, turns  for  sympathy  and  help  to  the  little 
group  of  his  own  countrymen  who  understand  him  and 
whom  he  trusts.  They  can  help  him  in  his  distress,  or 
advise  him  in  his  perplexity.  Gradually  he  learns  that  his  | 
circle  of  helpful  friends  can  be  greatly  widened.  He  is 
becoming  acquainted  with  men  of  a  different  nationality 
from  his  own ;  he  is  obtaining  from  them  opportunities 
for  employment;  and  he  discovers  that  among  them  he 
can  make  strong  and  trustworthy  friends.  Little  by  little,  ; 
he  widens  the  circle,  both  making  himself  acquainted  with 
the  character,  habits,  and  thought  of  the  people  about  him, 
and  endeavouring  himself  to  become  sufficiently  like  them 
to  be  acceptable  to  them  as  their  fellow-citizen.  In  the 
course  of  time  he  has  thus  extended  his  social  relations 


X 


42  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

until  they  touch  all  the  activities  of  business,  politics,  reli- 
gion, and  education  in  his  adopted  country. 

The  practical  activity  which  we  have  now  described, 
consisting  in  the  systematic  development  of  acquaintance 
and  of  helpful  social  relations,  may  be  called  socialization. 

Socialization,  then,  is  the  fourth  of  the  practical  activi- 
ties of  life. 

Complex  Activities.  —  These  four  practical  activities,  of 
appreciation,  utilization,  characterization,  and  socialization 
are  the  simple  modes  of  all  the  practical  activities  known 
to  a  population.  The  remaining  modes  now  to  be  de- 
scribed are  more  or  less  complicated  combinations  of  these 
four  simple  processes.  The  native-born  inhabitants  of  a 
country  who  have  lived  to  adult  years,  and  the  immigrants 
who  have  become  in  a  degree  adapted  to  their  new  sur- 
roundings, together  carry  on  these  more  complex  practical 
activities. 

Economic  Activity. — The  most  fundamental  of  these  is 
the  economic.  It  consists  in  a  systematic  attempt  to  sat- 
isfy human  wants  by  the  production,  exchange,  and  dis- 
tribution of  material  wealth.  Economic  activity,  it  is  ^ 
obvious,  is  a  development  of  utilization.  Utilization  is  the 
first  and  essential  part  of  the  economic  process.  Economic 
activity,  however,  is  more  than  utilization.  It  is  the  result 
of  combining  with  utilization  the  two  other  practical  activi- 
ties of  characterization  and  socialization.  To  carry  on 
economic  activity,  men  must  not  only  have  the  instinct  to 
utilize  and  the  habit  of  trying  all.  sorts  of  experiments  in 
adapting  the  external  world  to  man's  purposes,  but  they 
must  have  acquired  that  discipline  of  character  which  en- 
ables them  to  work  persistently  and  with  intelligent  pur- 
pose;   and  they  must  have  formed  the  habit  of  helping 


The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii  43 

one  another  in  their  work  in  all  possible  ways.  Economic 
activity,  then,  is  a  moralized  and  socialized  process  of  utili- 
zation. It  cannot  be  understood  by  any  one  who  ignores 
either  the  moral  or  the  social  factors.         %■ 

Legal  Activity.  —  Next  to  economic  activity  in  point  of  "%) 
time,  and  of  essential  importance,  is  legal  activity,  or  the 
development  and  application  of  rules  of  law.  A  rule  of 
law  is  one  of  those  principles  of  right  action  which  ex- 
perience in  the  task  of  developing  human  character  has 
discovered  and  reduced  to  the  forms  of  intelligent  expres- 
sion ;  which  has  been  accepted  as  a  sound  principle  by  a 
population;  and  which  has  been  put  into  the  form  of  a 
command,  which  the  population  will  compel  all  men  to 
obey.  In  a  sense,  then,  law  is  an  expression  of  the  rules 
or  principles  of  characterization  —  that  is,  of  moral  con- 
duct, as  the  people  composing  any  given  population  un- 
derstand and  are  prepared  to  enforce  them.  But  legal 
activity,  like  economic  activity,  is  a  complex  process.  It 
is  not  characterization  simply.  It  is  characterization  with 
the  cooperation  of  utilization  and  of  socialization.  In  the 
development  and  application  of  the  rules  of  law,  a  popu- 
lation keeps  in  mind  the  necessity  of  paying  attention  to 
utility  and  to  material  well-being.  A  great  many  of  the 
rules  of  law  have  reference  to  the  control  of  individuals 
over  material  things.  This  control,  when  it  is  permitted 
or  authorized  by  the  entire  population,  is  called  the  right 
of  property.  Cooperating  with  characterization  and  utili- 
zation also  is  the  process  of  socialization.  The  rules  of 
law  are  not  merely  the  rules  of  right  action  as  they  appear 
to  any  particular  individual.  They  are  the  rules  which 
appeal  to  men  generally,  and  which  men  generally  can 
agree  to  abide  by.     Legal  activity  is  thus  a  complex  form  of 


44  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

practical  endeavour,  constituted  by  the  blending  of  utilization 
and  of  socialization  with  the  moral  process  of  characterization. 

Political  Activity.  —  A  third  complex  mode  of  practical 
activity  in  all  large  populations  is  the  political.  Its  basis 
is  socialization.  It  is  a  development  on  a  large  scale  of 
the  effort  to  form  a  sympathetic,  helpful  group;  to  in- 
clude among  the  objects  of  cooperation  a  defence  against 
enemies  and  an  organization  of  means  to  preserve  order 
within  the  population;  and  to  enforce  the  rules  of  right 
conduct.  It  will  be  seen  that  utilization  and  characteriza- 
tion are  both  combined  with  socialization  in  creating  po- 
litical activity.  But  more  than  this  -^  so  very  complicated 
is  political  conduct  —  the  complex  economic  and  legal 
processes  also  are  combined  with  socialization  in  creating 
political  activity.  The  industrial  interests,  the  property 
rights,  and  other  legal  privileges  of  men  are  all  important 
factors  of  political  development. 

Political  activity,  then,  is  that  form  of  the  practical  ac- 
tivity of  a  population  which  results  from  the  combination 
of  utilization,  of  characterization,  of  economic,  and  of  legal 
activity  with  socialization. 

Ctiltiiral  Activity.  —  There  is  a  fourth  mode  of  compli- 
cated activity  of  populations,  yet  to  be  mentioned.  As  a 
result  of  all  the  activities  thus  far  described,  the  individ- 
uals composing  a  population  are  continually  acquiring  a 
new  interest  in  the  world  itself,  in  themselves  as  conscious 
human  beings,  and  in  their  own  well-being  and  destiny. 
They  begin  to  ask  themselves  what  they  work,  and  organ- 
ize, and  strive  for;  and  the  answer  that  they  make  to 
themselves  is  that  they  work,  and  strive,  and  organize,  in 
order  to  perfect  their  own  lives,  to  improve  their  minds 
and  characters,  and  to  enjoy  the  happiness  that  comes  of 


The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii  45 

bodily  exercise,  intellectual  inquiry,  the  friendship  of  com- 
panions, and  the  love  of  kindred.  This  answer  means 
that,  after  all,  appreciation,  which  is  the  first  practical 
activity,  is  also  the  object  of  all  other  endeavours. 
Consequently  men  begin  systematically  to  review,  criti- 
cise, and  develop  their  appreciations ;  namely,  their 
knowledge,  their  preferences,  their  affections.  This 
final  form  of  the  process  of  appreciation,  which  appears 
after  the  other  practical  activities  have  been  developed, 
may  be  called  critical  appreciation.  It  finds  expression 
in  all  the  forms  of  science,  art,  religion,  and  philosophy ; 
and  it  is  systematically  cultivated  by  means  of  education. 
This  fourth  great  group  of  practical  activities,  which  pre- 
supposes all  the  others  that  have  been  described,  may  be 
called  the  cultural  activities. 

The  Motives  of  Activity.  —  We  have  now  roughly  de- 
scribed all  the  kinds  of  practical  activity  that  may  be 
discovered  in  a  population.  Before  we  leave  this  subject, 
however,  it  is  necessary  to  show  how  these  activities  arise, 
and  by  what  methods  they  are  carried  on. 

All  the  conscious  activities  of  mankind  spring  from  cer- 
tain internal  motives,  such  as  passions,  appetites,  desires 
of  various  kinds,  and  ideas.  It  is  necessary  for  the  stu- 
dent of  Sociology  to  become  in  some  degree  familiar  with 
the  motives  of  action  because  it  is  in  them  that  the  causes 
of  social  change,  as  of  many  other  things  in  human  life, 
are  to  be  found. 

The  Motives  of  Appreciation  are  discovered  partly  in 
the  pleasures  of  sensation,  and  partly  in  the  pleasures  of 
thought.  Light,  colour,  musical  tones,  soft  and  delicate 
surfaces,  give  us  pleasure  through  the  sensory  organs  of 
sight,    hearing,  and   pressure.     The   child   is   continually 


46  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

moved  to  experiment  with  external  objects  because  of 
these  pleasures  of  sensation  which  they  afford  him.  As 
soon  as  the  mental  life  is  somewhat  developed,  the  more 
complicated  intellectual  pleasures  of  admiration  and  curi- 
osity begin  to  play  an  important  part ;  and  they  continue 
through  adult  life  to  provoke  men  to  search  for  knowledge. 
Q^  The  Motive  of  Utilization  is  that  mode  of  feeling  which 

we  call  appetite.  The  craving  for  food  is  the  primary 
cause  of  most  of  the  first  efforts  put  forth  by  any  living 
creature.  Somewhat  later  appear  those  desires  which 
prompt  the  efforts  of  men  to  find  shelter,  to  make  cloth- 
ing, to  provide  themselves  with  comfortable  houses,  arti- 
cles of  convenience,  and  adornment.  The  motive  back  of 
all  these  efforts  is  appetite  in  some  form. 

The  Motive  of  Characterization  is  a  little  more  difficult 
to  describe.  It  is  a  vague  form  of  desire  which  springs 
y-  from  the  needs  of  the  entire  bodily  and  mental  self, 
rather  than  from  the  need  or  activity  of  any  particular 
organ.  If,  for  example,  a  man  were  spending  nearly  all 
of  his  time  and  effort  in  satisfying  his  hunger,  many 
organs  of  his  body  which  did  not  happen  to  be  called  into 
play  would  feel  the  need  of  exercise,  and  grow  restive 
under  restraint.  The  powers  of  his  mind,  too,  would 
clamor  for  opportunity.  Now  this  vague  desire  of  the 
entire  self  for  opportunity  and  activity  is  the  primary  form 
^  of  the  moral  motive,  —  the  motive  of  characterization.  It 
is  a  desire  for  completeness  and  expansion  of  life,  a  pro- 
test against  any  incompleteness,  failure,  discouragement, 
lack  of  resolution,  or  breadth  of  view.  We  may  call  it  the 
desire  for  integral  —  that  is,  complete  —  satisfaction. 

The  Primary  Motive  of  Socialization  is  the  pleasurable- 
ness    of    acquaintance,    companionship,    and    sympathy. 


The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii  47 

When  we  first  begin  to  associate  and  to  extend  our  ac- 
quaintance, we  do  so  simply  because  the  acquaintance  and 
companionship  give  us  pleasure.  After  a  while,  however, 
when  companionship  and  cooperation  are  found  to  serve 
many  useful  ends,  such  as  making  life  more  secure,  and 
enabling  us  to  do  many  things  that  no  man  could  do  for 
himself  without  the  aid  of  his  fellows,  we  discover  a  second 
motive  of  socialization ;  namely,  the  usefulness  of  social  ' 
relations. 

The  Methods  of  Activity.  —  These  various  motives  work 
out  the  processes  or  practical  activities  that  have  been 
described,  through  various  methods,  which,  also,  the  stu- 
dent of  Sociology  should  observe. 

Methods  of  Appreciation.  — The  motives  of  appreciation 
work  out  the  activities  of  actual  appreciation  through  two 
chief  methods. 

1.  Response  to  Stimnli.  —  One  of  these  is  known  to  stu- 
dents of  Psychology  as  responsiveness  to  stimulus.  A 
stimulus  is  anything  that  excites  the  activity  of  an  organ 
of  sense.  Thus,  light  is  a  stimulus  to  the  nerves  of  the 
retina  of  the  eye ;  the  sound  waves  that  may  be  produced 
by  a  piano,  the  human  voice,  a  violin,  or  any  other  musi- 
cal instrument,  are  a  stimulus  to  the  auditory  nerves  of 
the  ear.  The  responsiveness  of  the  organs  of  sense  , 
to  any  stimulus  is  the  primary  method  through  which  the 
processes  of  appreciation  are  developed. 

2.  Imitation.  — A  secondary  method  is  imitation.     Imita-,  / 
tion,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  is  one  of  the  most  important 
methods  of  human  action,  especially  in  social  affairs.     To 

a  very  large  extent  the  child's  appreciations  are  arrived  at 
through  the  method  of  imitation.  Seeing  something  that 
excites  his  admiration  and  curiosity,  he  tries  to  copy  it; 


48  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

and  in  the  effort  to  copy,  he  becomes  familiar  with  it  and 
strengthens  his  admiration  of  it  to  a  degree  that  otherwise 
would  be  quite  impossible. 

Methods  of  Utilization. — The  motives  of  utilization  work 
themselves  out  through  methods  that  are  known  by  the 
names  attack,  impression,  imitation,  and  invention. 

1.  Attack  includes  the  exertion  of  muscular  force  against 
any  living  or  non-living  object  which  we  desire  to  take  and 
use  for  our  own  purposes.  It  includes  also  the  feelings 
and  the  ideas  that  are  associated  with  such  muscular 
efforts.  These  feelings  are  of  all  degrees,  from  the  mere 
consciousness  of  strength  to  an  active  hatred  of  the  object 
seized  if  it  resists  or  proves  to  be  dangerous. 

2.  Impression  is  the  mental,  as  distinguished  from  the 
muscular  power,  that  one  person  or  animal  has  over  an- 
other. Fear,  and  that  not  easily  described  mental  state 
which  is  often  called  fascination,  enter  into  impression, 
as,  for  example,  they  do  when  a  timid  bird  is  paralyzed  by 
the  snake.  Impression,  however,  may  exist  when  fear  is 
hardly  discoverable.  The  man  of  ordinary  mental  abilities 
always  feels  the  superior  power  of  a  person  of  great  intel- 
lectual gifts  and  executive  ability,  although  that  person 
may  be  physically  weak.  Napoleon  Bonaparte  was  physi- 
cally a  short,  small  man ;  but  he  never  failed  to  impress 
those  who  came  into  his  presence  with  a  sense  of  his  men- 
tal power  and  strength  of  will.  Impression  is  one  of  the 
chief  factors  in  all  social  affairs. 

3.  Invention.  —  Imitation  has  already  been  described. 
Invention,  as  the  word  is  used  here,  means  more  than  the 
mechanical  invention  which  the  word  usually  calls  to  mind. 
In  the  psychological  and  sociological  sense,  inventions 
include  all  new  combinations  of  ideas,  acts,  things,  and 


The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii  49 

forces.  Thus  the  plot  of  a  novel  is  an  invention  ;  a  suc- 
cessful act  of  legislation  for  overcoming  some  public  wrong 
or  inconvenience  is  an  invention  ;  a  new  device  in  military 
or  naval  strategy  is  likewise  an  invention.  '' 

Methods  of  Characterization.  —  The   methods  through    3 
which  the  motive  of  characterization  manifests  itself  are 
persistence,  accommodation,  and  self-control.     Persistence 
and  self-control  do  not  need  to  be  described. 

I.  Accommodatioti  is  that  change  which  takes  place  in 
any  living  being,  whether  plant,  animal,  or  man,  when  new 
combinations  or  circumstances  make  necessary  some  modi- 
fication of  previous  habits.  When,  for  example,  a  shrub  is 
transplanted  to  a  soil  and  climate  different  from  those  of 
its  native  place,  the  continued  life  of  the  plant  depends 
upon  its  ability  to  adapt  itself,  that  is,  to  accommodate 
itself,  to  the  new  conditions.  We  have  shown  how  the 
immigrant  coming  to  a  new  land  has  to  make  many 
changes  of  habit  in  respect  to  almost  every  detail  of  his 
life.     All  these  changes  are  accommodations. 

Method  of  Socialization.  —  The  method  through  which 
the  motives  of  socialization  manifest  themselves  is  called 
assimilation. 

I.  Assimilation  is  a  reciprocal  accommodation.  Two 
or  more  minds  accommodate  themselves  to  one  another; 
each  learns  something  from  the  others ;  each  gives  some- 
thing to  the  others ;  each  nature  is  changed  by  the  in- 
fluence of  the  others.  Assimilation  is  the  method  through 
which  the  thousands  of  foreign-born  residents  of  the 
United  States  who  have  come  from  Ireland,  Germany, 
Scandinavia,  Italy,  Russia,  and  other  countries  are  all 
becoming  Americans.  All  are  learning  from  native-born 
Americans,  and  native-born  Americans  are  learning  from 


50  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

them.  Each  is  setting  examples  to  all  the  others;  and 
each  is  imitating  all  the  others. 

Conflict.  —  All  of  these  methods,  —  namely,  response 
to  stimulus,  imitation,  attack,  impression,  invention,  per- 
sistence, accommodation,  self-control,  and  assimilation  — 
are  so  many  modes  of  one  universal  method  which  is 
found  in  every  form  of  matter  and  in  every  state  of  mind. 
That  universal  method  is  called  conflict. 

Every  change  that  takes  place  in  matter  is  a  conflict  of 
I  atoms  or  of  molecules.  Life  is  a  continual  conflict  be- 
tween the  organic  matter  of  plant  or  animal  and  the 
forms  of  matter  in  surrounding  space.  So  long  as  the 
living  matter  is  able  to  overcome,  appropriate,  and  make 
use  of  various  forms  of  matter  external  to  itself,  life  con- 
tinues. But  when,  in  the  conflict,  the  external  forms  of 
matter  become  stronger,  and  wear  away,  or,  as  we  say,  dis- 
organize the  matter  of  the  living  body,  life  presently 
ceases.  All  thought  and  feeling  are  a  conflict  of  sen- 
sations, ideas,  or  groups  of  ideas.  Even  the  pleasant 
friendship  of  companions  is  a  conflict;  for  it  must  be 
remembered  that  not  all  conflicts  are  painful  or  even 
unpleasant.  The  discussion  of  differing  opinions,  the 
attempt  to  reconcile  different  plans,  the  struggle  between 
two  opposing  wills,  —  all  these  are  forms  of  conflict ;  but 
they  yield  most  of  the  pleasure  as  well  as  much  of  the 
unhappiness  of  life.  All  the  sports  that  awaken  the  in- 
terest of  boys  on  the  playground,  and  afford  them  a  chief 
part  of  the  pleasures  of  youth,  are  keen  forms  of  conflict. 

It  is  necessary  to  observe  what  forms  of  conflict  are  de- 
structive and  painful  and  what  are  constructive  and  pleasur- 
able. Any  student  may  see  for  himself  that  there  are  two 
gradations  of  conflict.     In  one  there  is  such  unlikeness  or 


I 


The  Practical  Activities  of  Socii  51 

inequality  between  the  contending  objects  or  persons  that 
the  complete  destruction  or  subordination  of  the  weaker 
is  the  only  possible  outcome  of  the  encounter.  This  sort 
of  conflict,  which  results  in  complete  destruction  or  sub- 
ordination, may  be  called  primary  conflict.  All  animal 
life  is  maintained  by  a  primary  conflict.  Animal  life 
is  sustained  only  by  organic  matter.  Even  if  mankind 
should  become  strictly  vegetarian  in  its  habits,  human  life 
would  still  be  sustained  by  the  primary  conflict,  because 
it  would  still  be  necessary  to  destroy  vegetable  organisms. 

Conflict,  however,  may  be  merely  the  opposition  and 
struggle  of  objects,  persons,  or  states  of  mind  that  are  . 
so  nearly  alike  and  so  nearly  equal  that  the  outcome  is  / 
merely  a  modification  of  the  nature,  position,  or  point  of 
view  of  the  contestants.  This  relatively  mild  kind  of  con- 
flict is  secondary,  and  is  more  often  than  not  stimulating, 
pleasurable,  and  helpful. 

It  could  be  shown  that  the  secondary  forms  of  conflict 
all  depend  upon  the  continuation  of  the  primary  conflict. 
It  is  not  necessary,  however,  for  the  purposes  of  our  present 
study,  to  go  into  the  more  abstract  details  of  the  theory  of 
universal  evolution,  to  which  this  subject  properly  belongs. 

Toleration.  —  Primary  and  secondary  conflicts  appear  in 
all  the  practical  activities  of  life.  What  we  call  progress 
is  a  continual  change  in  the  proportion  of  secondary  to 
primary  conflicts.  If,  with  so  much  of  primary  conflict  as 
is  essential  to  maintaining  life  and  defending  social  organi- 
zation against  enemies  who  would  invade  and  destroy,  we 
can  continue  to  multiply  those  mild  secondary  conflicts 
that  are  pleasurable  and  helpful,  we  may  truthfully  say 
that  we  are  making  progress. 

But,  as  we  have  seen,  secondary  conflict  is  possible  only 


$2  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

where  the  contending  objects  are  much  alike  and  nearly 
equal  in  power.  When  it  is  possible  for  one  contestant 
to  annihilate,  enslave,  or  suppress  the  other,  the  propor- 
tion of  misery  and  disorganization  may  be  greater  than 
the  proportion  of  happiness  and  organization  in  the  result. 
But  where  the  contestants  are  alike  and  equal,  neither 
,  having  any  fear  of  ruin  or  of  permanent  injury,  the  strug- 
gle ends  in  a  better  understanding  and  a  more  complete 
cooperation. 
I  Happily,  the  normal  tendency  of  conflict  is  towards 
^  equality  and  the  milder  forms  of  strife.  The  antagonism 
of  primary  conflict  is  self-limiting.  It  necessarily  termi- 
nates in  a  kind  of  equilibrium  which  we  call  toleration. 
The  very  strong  kill  off  the  very  weak.  Then  the  very 
strong  in  turn  are  overborne  by  the  numerical  superiority 
of  the  individuals  of  average  power.  The  majority  then 
left  are  too  nearly  equal  in  strength  for  one  to  hope  to 
vanquish  the  other ;  and  they  are  obliged  to  live  on  those 
terms  of  toleration  which  make  possible  the  reassertion 
and  renewed  activity  of  the  socializing  motives.  The 
equilibrium  is  nevertheless  tested  from  time  to  time,  and 
so  is  maintained,  by  frequent  acts  of  aggression  and  re- 
venge—  occurrences  which  may  be  witnessed  not  only 
between  animals  and  savage  men,  but  also,  unfortunately, 
j    in  civilized  communities. 

The  relations  of  similarity  and  dissimilarity  to  social 
activities  and  results  will  be  further  considered  in  the 
following  chapter. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

In  any  good  elementary  work  on  Psychology,  such  as  James's 
"  Briefer  Course  "  or  Titchener's  "  Outlines,"  study  or  review  the  sub- 
jects, Sensation,  Reflex  Action,  Imitation,  and  Accommodation. 


CHAPTER  VI 
Socialization 

The  Modes  of  Resemblance.  —  At  the  end  of  the  preced- 
ing chapter  it  was  shown  that  if  the  individuals  composing 
a  population  are  very  unlike  in  kind  or  very  unequal  in 
power,  their  relations  are  antagonistic  in  the  extreme 
sense  of  primary  conflict.  If,  however,  there  is  substan- 
tial equality  of  power  and  a  good  degree  of  resemblance 
in  nature  or  kind,  association  and  cooperation  are  possible. 
It  is  necessary,  therefore,  to  investigate  the  similarities 
that  make  socialization  possible. 

In  every  population  of  conscious  individuals,  the  simi- 
larities of  kind  that  exist  and  that  make  society  possible 
are  of  three  chief  modes ;  and  in  each  mode  there  are  fur- 
ther subdivisions. 

Kinship.  —  The  first  mode  of  resemblance  to  be  ob- 
served is  that  which  we  call  kinship.  It  is  the  resem- 
blance of  physical  relationship,  based  upon  identity  of 
blood.  Everywhere  in  the  world  this  mode  of  resemblance 
plays  an  extremely  important  part  in  social  affairs.  Men 
of  the  same  race  have  common  prejudices ;  men  of  the 
same  nationality,  in  a  still  stronger  degree,  are  drawn  to- 
gether ;  and  in  a  degree  yet  stronger,  men  of  the  same 
family  lineage  show  sympathies  and  common  prejudices 
that  play  a  part  in  all  the  affairs  of  their  everyday  lives. 

There   are   four  important   degrees  or  subdivisions  of 

53 


54  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

kinship.  These  are,  namely,  family,  nationality,  race,  and 
colour. 

The  family  degree  of  kinship  includes  those  who  are 
most  nearly  related,  as  father,  mother,  children,  brother, 
and  sister ;  and  in  some  instances  the  slightly  more  re- 
mote degrees  of  kinship,  as  grandparents,  grandchildren, 
uncles,  aunts,  and  cousins.  Nationality  is  the  degree  of 
kinship  which  includes  all  those  of  the  same  speech  and 
political  associations,  as,  for  example,  all  Englishmen,  all 
Frenchmen,  all  Germans  or  Italians.  Race  is  the  degree 
of  kinship  which  includes  all  those  of  either  one  or  more 
nationalities  who  are  historically  descended  from  some  one 
stock  and  speech ;  that  is,  all  who  are  really  of  one  blood 
and  tradition,  but  who  have  been  scattered  through  many 
nationalities.  Thus,  for  example,  the  Saxon  race  is  now 
found  not  only  in  England,  but  throughout  North  Amer- 
ica and  in  Australia.  The  Celts  are  found  in  Ireland, 
Scotland,  France,  Wales,  and  North  America.  The  Scan- 
dinavian blood  is  found  in  Sweden,  Norway,  Denmark, 
and  in  the  northwestern  commonwealths  of  the  United 
States.  Colour  is  that  most  remote  degree  of  relationship 
which  includes  all  nationalities  and  races  of  the  same  gen- 
eral external  appearance  in  the  matter  of  colour  of  the 
skin  and  certain  other  physical  characteristics.  Thus, 
for  example,  the  white  colour  includes  such  races  as  the 
Semitic,  which  has  long  lived  to  the  southeast  of  the  Med- 
iterranean Sea,  the  Hamitic  of  Ancient  Egypt  and  Phoe- 
nicia, the  Greek,  Etruscan,  Latin,  Germanic,  Celtic,  and 
other  races  of  western  Europe. 

Another  way  of  distinguishing  degrees  of  kinship  is 
somewhat  less  accurate,  but  still  very  useful.  It  is  that 
which  is  employed  in  statistical  accounts  of  population. 


I 


Socialization  55 

Census  statistics  of  population  include  these  distinctions, 
namely,  native-born-of-native-parents,  native-born-of-for- 
eign-parents,  foreign-born,  and  coloured. 

These  distinctions  are  important  as  showing  to  what 
extent  the  demotic  composition  is  a  product  of  genetic 
aggregation,  and  to  what  extent  it  is  a  congregation. 
The  native-born-of-native-parents  are  obviously  more 
closely  related  through  long-continued  intermarriage  than 
are  the  native-born-of-native-parents  plus  the  native-born- 
of -foreign-parents ;  and  the  native-born-of-native-parents 
plus  the  native-born-of-foreign-parents  are  more  closely 
related  than  are  these  two  groups  taken  together  plus 
the  foreign-born. 

Mental  and  Moral  Resemblance.  —  The  second  mode  ^ 
of  resemblance  to  be  observed  in  every  population  is 
one  that  may  be  called  mental  and  moral  similarity.  It 
may  also  be  called  like-mindedness  —  the  name  under 
which  it  has  been  briefly  described  in  the  first  chapter. 
Mental  and  moral  resemblance  consists  in  a  close  simi- 
larity of  the  thoughts,  of  the  sympathies  and  affections,  of 
the  purposes,  or  of  all  these  together,  of  two  or  more 
individuals. 

These  similarities  do  not  exist  except  when  there  are 
similarities  in  those  elementary  mental  processes  of  sensa- 
tion and  in  those  elementary  forms  of  nervous  organiza- 
tion which  were  alluded  to  in  Chapters  I  and  V.  That  is 
to  say,  mental  and  moral  resemblance  is  a  consequence  of  ^ 
similar  brain  organization  in  two  or  more  individuals;  and^ 
the  mental  and  moral  resemblance  itself,  in  its  most  ele- 
mentary form,  is  a  similar  responsiveness  of  two  or  more 
individuals  to  the  same  stimulus  or  stimuli. 

For  example,  if  two  or  more  children  prefer  a  certain 


56  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

colour,  as  red,  or  blue,  or  yellow,  to  any  other  colour  that  is 
shown  them,  these  children,  reacting  in  the  same  way  to 
the  same  stimulus,  are,  to  this  extent,  mentally  alike.  If 
two  or  more  men,  when  entering  upon  their  life  work, 
show  a  strong  preference  for  a  particular  occupation,  as, 
for  example,  that  of  the  sailor,  they  are  to  this  extent 
mentally  alike.  If  many  men,  upon  hearing  that  some 
great  disaster  has  overtaken  the  commercial  world,  are  so 
filled  with  fear  that  they  sell  their  stocks  or  other  invest- 
ments, these  men  are  mentally  and  morally  in  a  high 
degree  alike.  Or,  finally,  if  hundreds  or  thousands  of 
men  are  so  affected  by  some  great  wrong  as  to  organize 
in  political  parties,  to  hold  public  meetings,  and  carry  on 
a  prolonged  agitation  to  do  away  with  the  evil  that  de- 
presses them,  these  men  are  so  far  mentally  and  morally 
alike. 

Like  responsiveness  to  the  same  stimulus  is  discovered 
in  three  stages  of  development.  The  first  is  a  mere 
initial  responsiveness;  it  is  a  mere  first  interest  in  any 
object.  This  first  interest,  even  if  for  the  moment  very 
strong,  may  not  last.  It  may  produce  serious  social  re- 
sults, however,  as,  for  example,  in  a  momentary  panic. 

A  second  degree  is  that  persistent  responsiveness  which 
becomes  a  habit  or  fixed  manner.  Thus  most  of  our 
forms  of  speech  and  of  courtesy  are  like  ways  of  respond- 
ing to  the  stimulus  of  personal  meeting  which  have  be- 
come habitual. 

A  third  degree  is  the  rational  responsiveness  which 
involves  the  complex  activity  of  all  the  powers  of  mind 
and  will,  and  the  varied  adaptation  of  means  to  end. 
This  degree  of  similar  responsiveness  is  to  be  seen  when 
many  individuals,  confronted  with  some  common  danger 


Socialization  57 

to  be  avoided,  or  looking  forward  to  some  common  inter- 
est to  be  developed,  consult,  plan,  and  organize,  and,  from 
time  to  time,  modify  plans  and  reorganize  their  forms  of 
cooperation  as  changing  circumstances  make  new  com- 
binations of  means  necessary  for  the  attainment  of  the 
end  in  view.  It  is  obvious  that  complete  mental  and 
moral  similarity  of  this  high  degree  involves  not  only  like 
responsiveness  to  the  same  stimulus  on  the  part  of  the 
like-minded  individuals,  but  also  a  substantial  equality  of 
mental  and  moral  power. 

Potential  Resemblance.  —  In  every  population  there  is 
to  be  seen  one  more  important  mode  of  similarity.  This 
may  be  called  potential  resemblance.  As  the  word  **  po- 
tential "  implies,  the  resemblance  here  referred  to  is  not  one 
already  fully  established.  It  is  a  resemblance  that  is 
possible  or  in  the  way  of  being  established.  Strictly 
speaking,  it  is  that  peculiarity  of  two  or  more  minds  which 
makes  them  so  act  and  react  upon  one  another  that  in  ^ 
course  of  time  they  become  alike.  We  all  know  from 
personal  experience  that  there  are  some  minds  among 
our  acquaintances  that  never  become  more  sympathetic 
with  our  own.  The  oftener  we  engage  in  argument 
with  them,  the  further  apart  do  they  and  we  seem  to 
drift.  With  other  minds  the  case  is  wholly  different. 
The  ripening  of  acquaintance  is  the  ripening  of  sympathy 
and  agreement.  Our  differences  disappear  or  become  of 
little  consequence.  We  learn  to  see  things  in  the  same 
light  and  to  regard  them  with  the  same  feelings.  This 
organization  of  two  or  more  minds  which  makes  their 
sympathetic  approach  or  agreement  certain  is  the  thing 
which  is  meant  by  the  term  "  potential  resemblance."  It 
is  potential  resemblance  that  makes  possible  the  assimi- 


58  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

lation  of  the  very  different  types  of  mind  which  come 
into  a  country  by  immigration,  to  the  common  mental 
and  moral  type  of  the  land  of  their  adoption. 

The  Consciousness  of  Resemblance.  —  Such  are  the  modes 
of  resemblance  that  make  socialization  possible.  Let  us 
now  look  at  the  mental  consequences  of  resemblance  which 
enter  into  and  constitute  the  process  of  socialization  itself. 

Sensations  of  Meeting.  —  When  two  persons  who  have 
never  before  seen  one  another  unexpectedly  meet,  some- 
thing happens  in  the  nervous  organization  of  each  which, 
when  examined,  clearly  shows  that  the  meeting  is  as 
truly  a  conflict  as  would  be  a  collision  of  two  mortal 
enemies.  J  The  only  difference  is  that  the  one  conflict 
may  be  almost  infinitesimal  in  magnitude,  and  involve  no 
unpleasant  feelings  whatsoever,  while  the  other  would 
involve  perhaps  both  terror  and  pain. 

That  which  takes  place,  then,  in  the  nervous  apparatus 
of  a  person  who  unexpectedly  meets  a  stranger  is  either 
a  shock  of  unpleasant  feeling  or  a  certain  thrill  of  pleas- 
urable feeling.  Which  of  these  it  would  be,  no  human 
intelligence  could  beforehand  have  predicted. 

Now  the  feeling  of  shock,  surprise,  anger,  disgust, 
which  may  happen  to  be  the  experience  in  the  case,  is 
beyond  doubt  due  to  a  very  complicated  impression  of 
unlikeness  which  the  stranger  makes.  This  complicated 
impression  is  made  up  of  sensations  of  many  kinds : 
sensations  of  sight,  sensations  of  hearing,  perhaps  also 
sensations  of  odour  and  of  touch.  The  man's  appearance 
as  seen  with  the  eye  may  be  repellent  or  threatening ;  his 
voice  may  grate  unpleasantly  on  the  ear;  the  touch  of 
his  hand  may  create  something  closely  akin  to  a  shudder. 

Suppose,  however,  that  the  experience   is   a   thrill   of 


Socialization  59 

pleasure.  Here  the  effect  is  produced  by  a  complex 
combination  of  impressions  of  unlikeness  with  impressions 
of  likeness ;  namely,  impressions  of  the  difference  of  the 
stranger  from  the  person  who  encounters  him,  with  impres- 
sions of  his  apparent  resemblance.  It  is  instantly  clear  that 
this  hitherto  unknown  individual  has  his  own  distinctive 
personality ;  he  is  in  many  respects,  perhaps  in  outward 
appearance,  perhaps  in  tone  of  voice,  almost  certainly  in 
mind  and  character,  different  from  the  one  who  confronts 
him.  At  the  same  time  there  is  something  in  his  face  that 
pleases ;  something  in  his  voice  or  hand  grasp  that  awakens 
confidence.  This  means  that  the  activities  of  his  mind, 
the  peculiarities  of  his  character,  expressing  themselves 
throughout  his  life  in  nerve  and  muscle  reactions,  have  left  in 
his  manner  and  in  the  lines  of  his  face  a  registration  which 
the  person  encountering  him  instantly  interprets  as  signs 
of  a  personality  sympathetic  with  his  own.  It  is  a  person- 
ality which  awakens  the  familiar  forms  of  thought  and 
feeling  of  his  own  consciousness. 

It  is  quite  possible  for  the  first  impression  made  by  a 
stranger  to  be  little  more  than  sensation  and  emotion. 
Thoughts,  ideas,  perceptions,  in  the  strict  meaning  of 
these  words,  may  hardly  enter  into  the  matter  at  all. 
The  whole  occurrence  may  be  little  more  than  an  awaken- 
ing of  what  may  be  called  organic  sympathy  or  organic 
repulsion  in  distinction  from  certain  more  highly  devel- 
oped modes  of  the  consciousness  of  difference  and  of 
likeness  which  are  further  on  to  be  explained. 

Organic  Sympathy.  —  The  origins  of  this  organic  antag- 
onism or  organic  sympathy,  as  the  case  may  be,  must  now 
be  briefly  explained.  Many  social  facts  would  be  alto- 
gether mysterious  if  they  were  not  known  to  have  a  close 


6o  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

connection  with  the  simple  mental  processes  in  which  or- 
ganic sympathy  arises. 

Long  before  the  infant  begins  to  think,  and  while  its 
mental  life  is  little  more  than  a  series  of  sensations,  it  has 
entered  upon  a  group  of  experiences  which  are  preparing 
it  to  regard  very  differently  the  individuals  who,  in  after 
years,  will  be  found  to  be  on  the  whole  like  its  own  self, 
and  on  the  whole  unlike  that  self.  The  infant  does  not 
yet  know  the  difference  between  persons  who  are  similar 
to  himself  and  those  who  are  very  dissimilar  from  him- 
self. But  he  is  undergoing  experiences  which  will  pres- 
ently make  such  knowledge  inevitable. 

When  he  cries  or  coos,  a  certain  impression  is  made 
upon  his  own  organs  of  hearing  by  these  explosions  of  his 
own  voice.  When  his  nurse  or  mother  sings  to  him,  a  cer- 
tain impression  is  again  made  upon  his  organs  of  hearing. 
When  the  dog  barks  or  the  bird  chirps  in  the  cage,  once 
more  a  definite  impression  is  made  upon  the  infantile 
nerves  of  hearing.  But  something  else  also  is  happening. 
The  sound  made  by  the  mother's  voice  has  been  like  that 
made  by  the  child's  own  voice ;  while  the  sounds  made  by 
the  dog  and  bird  have  been  unlike  those  made  by  the 
child's  own  voice.  When  the  infant  puts  his  hands  to- 
gether or  passes  them  over  his  face,  he  receives  in  his 
brain  certain  sensations  of  pressure.  When  he  passes  his 
hands  over  his  mother's  face  and  over  her  hands,  he  again 
receives  sensations  of  pressure ;  and  they  are  very  like 
the  sensations  that  he  has  received  from  his  own  body. 
When  he  passes  his  hands  over  the  sides  of  the  crib  or  of 
the  blankets  or  along  the  fur  of  the  cat,  he  once  more  re- 
ceives sensations  of  pressure ;  but  they  are  unlike  those 
received  from  his  own  body. 


Socialization  6 1 

These  simple  illustrations  serve  as  well  as  scores  of 
others  that  might  be  offered  to  bring  out  a  truth  of  great 
importance.  This  is,  that  long  before  a  child  perceives, 
or  thinks,  in  the  strict  meaning  of  thesfc  words,  it  has 
begun  to  lay  up  in  its  consciousness  a  multitude  of  experi- 
ences in  the  form  of  mere  sensations  of  likeness  or  of  un- 
likeness  of  kind  or  class.  In  all  these  experiences  he 
himself  is  one  term  in  the  comparison.  The  external 
object  is  like  himself  or  unlike  himself.  He  does  not  yet 
know  this ;  but,  at  one  time,  he  has  sensations  which  are 
like  the  sensations  received  from  himself,  and  at  another 
time  he  has  sensations  which  are  unlike  the  sensations 
received  from  himself. 

When,  a  little  older,  the  child  is  beginning  to  imitate 
the  actions  of  people  about  him,  if  closely  watched  by  an 
intelligent  observer,  he  will  be  found  to  imitate  more  easily 
and  more  frequently  the  persons  who  are  very  like  himself. 
Here  again  the  child  does  not  know  that  he  is  making  any 
such  discrimination.  It  is  only  the  third  party,  the  exter- 
nal observer,  who  can  know  this  fact.  None  the  less,  the 
fact  is  one  that  will  have  important  consequences  for  the 
child  in  later  life.  One  of  the  simplest  ways  in  which  this 
truth  can  be  proved  by  any  student  who  cares  to  put  it  to 
the  test  is  by  observations  of  children  learning  to  talk. 
Children  can  understand  each  other  oftentimes  when  it  is 
impossible  for  strangers  to  understand  them,  extremely 
difficult  for  the  father,  but  much  less  difficult  for  the 
mother.  That  is  to  say,  children  imitate  the  sounds  made 
by  one  another  more  easily  than  the  sounds  made  by  grown 
people.  And,  as  a  general  rule,  the  child  who  has  brothers 
and  sisters  a  little  older  than  itself  learns  to  talk  more 
readily  than  the  child  who  associates  only  with  adults. 


62  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

In  the  development  of  resembling  individuals,  the  men- 
tal processes  that  have  been  described  in  the  last  five 
paragraphs  are  combined  with  a  more  general  process 
previously  mentioned;  namely,  the  like  response  of 
like  minds  to  like  stimuli.  Accordingly,  there  are  three 
chief  factors  of  organic  sympathy ;  namely,  first,  the  like 
responsiveness  of  like  individuals  to  the  same  stimulus ; 
second,  like  sensations  received  by  like  individuals  from 
self  and  others ;  third,  the  readier  imitation  of  one  another 
j  by  like  individuals  than  by  those  who  greatly  differ. 

Perceptions  of  Likeness. — When  the  child  begins  to 
combine  sensations  of  the  moment  with  memories  of  simi- 
lar sensations  in  the  past,  and  to  connect  these  immediate 
and  memory  sensations  with  the  objects  which  have  pro- 
duced them,  the  process  of  perception  has  begun.  The 
child  now  not  only  has  like  and  unlike  sensations ;  he  has 
perceptions  of  likeness  and  of  unlikeness.  These  are 
much  more  complicated  mental  states. 

It  seems  probable  that  perceptions  of  unlikeness  appear 
earlier  in  the  experience  of  every  individual  than  percep- 
tions of  likeness.  Indeed,  likeness  can  be  distinguished 
from  absolute  identity  only  by  perceptions  of  the  differ- 
ences that  exist  between  things  that  are,  in  certain  re- 
spects, alike. 

From  this  truth  it  follows  that  in  the  process  of  acquaint- 
ance the  differences  between  one  individual  and  another 
are  first  observed ;  and  that  a  sense  of  difference  is  always 
present  in  the  mind  to  be  more  or  less  overcome  by  any 
growing  sense  of  similarity.  This  is  why  it  happens  that 
when  two  strangers  meet^  the  mental  experience  in  the 
first  instance  is  one  of  surprise  or  shock,  or  of  some  milder 
form  of  conflict. 


Socialization  63 

From  this  principle  follow  also  certain  other  important 
sociological  facts.  In  every  mixed  population,  where  men 
of  different  nationalities  and  different  customs  dwell  side 
by  side,  the  sense  of  difference  long  stande  in  the  way  of 
complete  acquaintance  and  assimilation.  For  example,  in 
any  large  American  city,  where  are  found  the  native-born 
and  such  groups  of  foreign-born  as  the  Irish,  the  German, 
the  Italian,  the  Russian  Jew,  and  many  others,  the  strong 
impression  of  difference  between  these  types  operates  as  a 
serious  barrier  to  the  complete  adaptation  of  all  types  to  a 
common  American  citizenship. 

The  sense  of  difference,  however,  only  impedes  ;  it  does 
not  prevent  the  appearance  in  consciousness  of  percep- 
tions of  resemblance.  If,  in  the  population,  there  are 
in  fact  as  many  resemblances  as  are  usually  found  in  in- 
dividuals of  the  same  species,  much  more  of  the  same 
nationality,  there  presently  appear  in  the  minds  of  all 
who  are  sufficiently  developed  to  be  able  to  perceive  dif- 
ferences (that  is,  to  have  perceptions  of  any  kind)  per- 
ceptions of  a  new  order,  namely,  perceptions  of  similarity. 

Reflective  Sympathy.  —  When  the  perception  of  resem- 
blance has  arisen  in  consciousness,  it  immediately  reacts 
upon  that  organic  sympathy  which  has  already  been  de- 
scribed. The  sympathy  between  like  individuals  which 
takes  the  form  of  imitation  and  of  like  response  to  the 
same  stimulus,  now  becomes  an  intelligent  and  reflective 
sympathy.  It  is  awakened  by  the  knowledge  that  an- 
other person  is  like  one's  self.  When  we  perceive  that 
some  one  who  is  organized  as  we  are  is  doing  a  certain 
thing,  we  feel  the  impulse  to  act  as  he  acts.  If  he  ap- 
pears to  be  in  pain,  we  feel  a  certain  discomfort  or  even 
a  certain  degree  of  the  pain  that  he  experiences.     If  he 


64  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

• 

is  evidently  in  a  state  of  great  joy,  we  also  feel  a  certain 
degree  of  gladness. 

We  have  now  noticed  three  important  mental  conse- 
quences of  resemblance  between  one  individual  and  an- 
other. Resembling  individuals  have  like  sensations  and 
respond  in  like  ways  to  the  same  stimulus.  They  uncon- 
sciously imitate  one  another.  These  facts  together  make 
up  organic  sympathy.  In  course  of  time,  with  further 
development  of  consciousness,  resembling  individuals  per- 
ceive that  they  are  alike ;  they  become  aware  of  their 
similarity.  And  in  the  third  place,  the  perception  of 
similarity,  in  combination  with  organic  sympathy,  becomes 
reflective,  intelligent  sympathy.  The  resembling  individ- 
uals not  only  sympathize  with  one  another,  but  they  know 
that  they  sympathize,  and  to  a  certain  extent  they  are 
aware  that  their  sympathy  is  affected  by  the  perception  of 
resemblance. 

Two  more  mental  consequences  of  resemblance  must 
now  be  noted. 

Affection.  —  The  perception  of  resemblance  and  con- 
scious sympathy  commonly  develop  into  the  stronger  feel- 
ing which  is  variously  named  liking,  friendliness,  and 
affection,  according  to  the  degree  of  its  strength.  Those 
individuals  who,  as  we  say,  have  something  in  common, 
that  is,  those  who  are  so  much  alike  that  they  are  sym- 
pathetic and  have  similar  ideas  and  tastes,  on  the  whole 
like  one  another  better  than  individuals  who  have  little  or 
nothing  in  common.  We  must  not  make  the  mistake, 
however,  of  supposing  that  in  all  cases  the  strongest  affec- 
tion springs  up  between  persons  who,  at  the  moment  of 
their  first  acquaintance,  are  actually  very  much  alike  in 
mental  and  moral  qualities.     Perhaps  the  more  frequent 


Socialization  65 

case  is  that  of  a  growing  affection  between,,  persons  whose 
similarity  is  that  which  has  been  called  potential  resem- 
blance. Apparently  it  is  the  capacity  of  two  or  more  per- 
sons to  become  alike  in  mental  and  moral  nature,  under 
each  other's  influence,  that  gives  rise  to  the  strongest 
friendship  and  the  highest  degree  of  pleasure  in  compan- 
ionship. 

Desire  for  Recognition. — The  remaining  mental  fact  to 
be  noted  as  a  consequence  of  resemblance  is  the  desire 
which  an  individual  feels  for  recognition,  including  a 
return  of  sympathy  and  affection.  When  a  person  per- 
ceives that  his  acquaintance  resembles  himself  in  mind 
and  character,  and  is  conscious  of  a  certain  sympathy  and 
affection  for  his  acquaintance,  he  looks  for  some  manifes- 
tation of  interest  in  himself.  He  expects  the  acquaintance 
also  to  recognize  the  points  of  similarity  and  to  show  feel- 
ings of  sympathy  and  liking.  This  state  of  mind  is  the 
basis  of  some  of  the  most  important  social  passions,  such 
as  pride  and  ambition. 

The  Consciousness  of  Kind.  —  The  four  modes  of  con- 
sciousness which  have  now  been  described  must  not  be 
thought  of  as  separate  or  as  independent  of  one  another. 
They  are  so  intimately  blended  that  it  is  only  by  a  process 
of  scientific  analysis  that  they  can  be  thought  of  singly. 
In  actual  experience,  they  are  united  in  a  state  of  mind 
that,  for  the  moment,  seems  perfectly  simple  and  homo- 
geneous. The  perception  of  resemblance,  the  sympathy, 
the  affection,  and  the  desire  for  recognition  that  go  with 
it,  seem,  for  the  time  being,  to  be  as  perfectly  one  fact  of 
consciousness  as  does  the  image  of  a  person  or  of  a  land- 
scape upon  the  retina  of  the  eye.  This  state  of  conscious- 
ness is  pleasurable,  and  includes  the  feeling  that  we  wish 


y 


66  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

to  maintain  it  and  to  expand  it.  The  feeling  that  it  car- 
ries with  it  is,  in  fact,  like  that  which  one  experiences  while 
engaged  in  a  pleasurable  game  or  witnessing  an  engross- 
ing drama.  One  does  not  stop  to  ask  whether  it  is  useful 
or  worth  while,  any  more  than  he  does  when  eagerly  look- 
ing forward  to  the  next  successful  move  on  a  chess  board. 
He  simply  enjoys  it  while  it  lasts,  and  feels  that  it  is 
worth  while  in  itself,  quite  irrespective  of  any  consequences 
that  may  follow. 

We  are  now  ready  to  give  a  name  to  this  interesting 
mode  of  consciousness  which  springs  from  the  resemblance 
of  two  or  more  individuals  to  one  another.  We  call  it  the 
consciousness  of  kind. 

The  consciousness  of  kindy  then^  is  that  pleasurable  state 
of  mind  wJiich  includes  organic  sympathy ^  the  perception  of 
resemblance,  conscious  or  reflective  sympathy ^  affection,  and 
the  desire  for  recognition. 

Complex  as  it  is,  the  consciousness  of  kind  is  the  sim- 
plest of  all  the  states  of  mind  that  can  be  called  social. 
All  other  states  of  the  human  mind  which  can  be  called 
social  and  which  enter  into  social  activities  are  found  upon 
examination  to  be  composed  of  the  consciousness  of  kind 
in  combination  with  various  other  ideas,  desires,  and  pas- 
sions. The  consciousness  of  kind  is  the  cause  of  all  the 
social  activities  and  relations  which  men  enter  upon  intel- 
ligently, knowing  what  they  are  about,  in  distinction  from 
those  acts  that  are  merely  automatic  or  impulsive. 

It  is  important  to  observe  that,  because  the  conscious- 
ness of  kind  is  complex,  it  is  necessarily  an  ever-changing 
mental  state.  It  varies  as  one  or  another  of  its  elements 
is  predominant.  At  one  time,  it  may  be  chiefly  an  idea  ; 
at  another  time,  chiefly  sympathy  ;  at  another  time,  chiefly 


Socialization  6/ 

the  desire  for  recognition ;  but  never  is  it  one  of  these 
elements  alone.     All  are  present  in  some  degree. 

It  must  be  observed  also  that  the  consciousness  of  kind 
varies  with  the  degree  of  resemblance  upon  which  it  is 
based.  Sympathy  and  affection  decrease  as  resemblance 
becomes  more  general  and  vague.  Thus,  for  example, 
there  is  usually  a  stronger  sympathy  among  all  members 
of  a  family  than  among  all  members  of  a  nation  ;  and  a 
stronger  sympathy  among  men  of  a  common  nationality 
than  among  all  men  of  the  same  race  or  colour.  In  like 
manner,  there  is  a  greater  sympathy  among  Protestants 
than  among  Protestants  and  Roman  Catholics  taken  to- 
gether; and  more  sympathy  among  Protestants  and  Ro- 
man Catholics  taken  together  than  among  all  devotees  of 
all  religions  taken  together. 

TJie  Laiv  of  Sympathy.  —  The  law  of  sympathy  may 
therefore  be  expressed  as  follows  :  — 

The  degree  of  sympathy  decreases  as  the  ge^terality  of 
resemblance  increases.  ^ 

The  Objective  Process.  —  The  growth  of  the  conscious- 
ness of  kind  is  the  mental  or  subjective  side  of  socializa- 
tion. Socialization  must  be  examined,  however,  from  what 
may  be  called  the  objective  side ;  that  is,  from  the  side 
of  certain  activities  which  spring  from  the  consciousness 
of  kind  and  react  upon  it,  making  it  a  broader  and  deeper 
experience,  expanding  the  thought  of  resemblance,  and 
enlarging  the  sympathies. 

Cofnmunication.  —  The  first  step  in  this  outward  or  ob- 
jective process  of  socialization  is  communication — the 
systematic  exchange  of  ideas  and  feelings. 

In  every  aggregation  of  individuals  in  which  there  are 
many  differences,  but   also   some   positive   resemblances 


68  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

and  already  some  consciousness  of  kind,  there  is  always 
some  communication. 

The  first  impressions  of  meeting  are  usually  confused. 
Impressions  of  difference  and  impressions  of  resemblance 
are  so  mingled  in  the  mind  that  one  is  left  in  doubt  as  to 
the  real  degree  of  resemblance  and  the  possible  interest 
and  pleasure  of  further  acquaintanceship.  The  desire  to 
have  more  definite  knowledge  on  these  points  is  the  origi- 
nal motive  of  communication. 

Among  both  animals  and  men,  in  the  presence  of  a 
fellow-being  there  is  always  an  expression  of  feeling  by 
muscular  movements,  tones  of  voice,  or  articulate  lan- 
guage. The  expression  by  means  of  involuntary  move- 
ments is  often  quite  sufficient  to  reveal  to  the  onlooker 
what  he  most  desires  to  know  about  the  person  in  whose 
presence  he  happens  to  be.  Especially  is  this  true  of  the 
involuntary  expression  of  any  feeling  of  aggression  or  of 
shrinking.  The  quick  interpretation  of  such  changes  is 
a  perception,  and  even  a  judgment,  of  kind  —  a  sort  of 
instantaneous  decision  of  the  question,  **  Is  this  fellow  my 
sort  of  a  man,  or  is  he  something  else }  " 

Among  the  more  intelligent  creatures,  such  as  the 
higher  species  of  animals  and  human  beings,  this  first 
instantaneous  judgment  of  kind  is  followed  by  a  more 
deliberate  and  varied  communication  which  corrects  or 
verifies  and  expands  the  first  impression.  We  have  only 
to  observe  the  action  of  two  strange  dogs  when  they  en- 
counter one  another,  to  get  a  correct  idea  of  the  origins 
of  communication.  Before  concluding  to  fight  or  to  make 
friends,  they  eye  and  sniff  each  other,  show  teeth,  growl, 
and  express  a  dozen  shades  of  feeling  and  conviction  by 
movements  of  the  head  and  neck,  haunches,  and  tail.     All 


Socializatio7i  69 

this  is  simply  a  way  of  "  sizing  up  "  one  another  and  de- 
ciding what  their  immediate  relations  shall  be.  Much  the 
same  sort  of  thing  may  be  observed  on  any  school  play- 
ground. The  new  boy  is  surrounded  and  subjected  to  all 
sorts  of  inquiries  and  tests  to  determine  what  sort  of  a 
fellow  he  is,  and  whether  he  is  of  the  right  kind  to  be 
accepted  as  a  persona  grata  by  those  who  already  have 
the  running  of  the  playground  in  their  hands.  In  col- 
leges the  "  rushing  "  of  men  for  the  fraternities  is  another 
good  example  of  the  same  process.  Among  adults  in  po- 
lite society  the  process  is  a  little  more  refined  and  long- 
drawn-out  ;  but  it  is  not  really  different  in  character.  Be- 
fore the  basis  of  association  is  finally  established  for  two 
or  more  persons,  their  inquisition  of  one  another  extends 
to  a  comparison  of  genealogies,  of  personal  experiences, 
of  tastes,  beliefs,  and  ambitions.  The  motives  of  all  this 
communication  are  the  desires  to  impress  and  to  influence 
one  another,  and  to  know  one  another  thoroughly  well, 
and  so  to  define  the  consciousness  of  kind.  After  ac- 
quaintance is  established,  much  communication  takes  place 
which  seems  to  have  its  motive  in  our  interest  in  the  sub- 
ject that  we  talk  about.  Even  then,  however,  the  other 
motives  that  have  been  mentioned  can  always  be  detected ; 
and  it  is  probable  that  they  are  in  all  cases  the  really  pre- 
dominant ones,  although  we  are  not  always  conscious  of 
the  fact. 

Association.  —  When  communication  is  indefinitely  con- 
tinued, association,  as  distinguished  from  mere  aggrega- 
tion, exists,  and  socialization  is  begun.  Communication 
has  satisfied  the  meeting  individuals  that  they  are  too 
much  alike  and  too  nearly  equal  for  either  to  attempt  in 
any  sense,  physical  or  mental,  to  conquer  the  other.     At 


70  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

this  stage  of  their  acquaintance,  however,  it  is  by  no  means 
certain  that  the  secondary  conflict  which  must  continue 
among  them  will  always  be  sympathetic  and  pleasurable. 
In  a  population  of  mixed  elements  such  as  congregation 
often  brings  together,  contention  is  likely  to  be  harsh  or 
even  bitter  during  a  long  period  of  assimilation. 

Assimilation,  it  will  readily  be  understood  from  the 
name  itself,  is  the  process  of  growing  alike.  Two  or  more 
individuals  so  modify  one  another's  ideas  and  dispositions 
that,  in  the  course  of  their  acquaintance,  their  differences 
become  fewer  or  less  serious ;  antagonism  gives  place  to 
agreement ;  and  their  ideas  and  purposes  grow  more  and 
more  alike. 

The  Socializing  Motives  and  Methods.  —  It  is  obvious 
that  this  process  .really  consists  in  a  modification  of  indi- 
vidualistic (that  is,  purely  self-seeking)  motives  and  activi- 
ties. The  individualistic  motives  have  been  described  in 
Chapter  V.  That  which  modifies  them  and  produces 
assimilation  and  socialization  is  the  consciousness  of 
kind.  Let  us,  then,  observe  the  modifications  of  individ- 
ualistic motives,  and  of  individualistic  modes  of  activity, 
that  result  from  the  combination  with  them  of  a  growing 
consciousness  of  kind. 

I .  The  consciousness  of  kind  modifies  appetite  and  desire. 
Few.,  if  any,  of  our  appetites  and  desires  are  what  they 
would  have  been  if  each  individual  had  lived  by  himself 
in  contact  only  with  the  physical  world  and  lower  forms 
of  life.  When  a  strange  food  is  first  tasted,  it  is  usually 
on  the  recommendation  of  one  in  whom  we  have  confi- 
dence, and  whose  tastes  in  many  other  respects  we  know 
to  be  like  our  own.  To  a  great  extent  we  cultivate  certain 
appetites  and  repress  others  merely  because  our  associates 


Socialization  yi 

do  so.  Most  of  the  consumers  of  tobaccc^  *' learn  "  to  like 
it.  Our  clothing  is  chosen  with  as  much  reference  to  our 
class  or  set  as  to  our  comfort.  In  general,  the  standard 
of  living  is  largely  determined  by  the  consciousness  of 
kind. 

2.  T/ie  conscioiis7iess  of  kind  modifies  the  ideas  and  the 
desires  that  enter  into  the  consciousness  of  integral  self- 
satisfaction.  Fortitude  in  bearing  pain  and  disappoint- 
ment, courage  in  facing  danger,  and  persistence  of  purpose 
are  greatly  strengthened  by  fellow-feeling  and  the  desire 
for  esteem  and  praise.  Besides  thus  fortifying  the  original 
moral  motives,  the  consciousness  of  kind  contributes  a 
new  one,  the  very  names  of  which  are  significant  of  its 
origin ;  to  wit,  kindness,  affection,  love.  This  motive 
manifests  itself  in  a  new  mode  of  conduct,  namely,  self- 
sacrifice.  Affection  and  self-sacrifice  probably  originate 
in  organic  sympathy. 

3.  The  consciousness  of  kind  modifies  impression.  Im- 
pression produces  two  very  different  effects.  One  is  fear, 
which  may  become  terror,  and  terminate  in  paralysis  ;  the 
other  is  fascination  and  pleasure.  The  one  mode  of 
impression  is  the  cause  of  submission,  surrender,  and  the 
abject  kind  of  obedience ;  the  other  mode  of  impression  is 
the  cause  of  loyalty,  fealty,  and  the  voluntary  attachment 
to  a  leader. 

The  effect  of  the  consciousness  of  kind  upon  the  fear- 
inspiring  mode  of  impression  is  reflected  in  the  saying  that 
familiarity  breeds  contempt.  The  sense  of  difference  and 
its  accompanying  sense  of  mystery  are  a  large  element  in 
fear.  These  disappear  with  the  discovery  of  resemblance. 
Rulers  and  dignitaries  who  wish  to  inspire  fear  invariably 
surround  themselves  with  an  air  of  mystery,  and  foster  the 


72  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

public  delusion  that,  in  some  inexplicable  way,  they  are 
unlike  other  men.  The  effect  of  the  consciousness  of  kind 
upon  the  fascination-producing  mode  of  impression  is  to 
intensify  devotion.  The  more  "  in  touch  "  our  leader  is 
with  us,  that  is  to  say,  the  more  like  us  he  is  in  every 
respect  except  his  superior  sagacity  and  power,  the  more 
blind  and  unswerving  is  our  allegiance. 

4.  The  consciousness  of  kind  modifies  imitation.  We  do 
not  imitate  one  example  as  readily  as  we  imitate  another. 
Other  things  being  equal,  we  imitate  the  example  that  is 
set  by  an  originative  mind  in  our  own  class  or  circle. 

All  of  our  motives  and  methods  that  are  thus  modified 
by  the  consciousness  of  kind  become  socializing  motives 
and  methods,  and  play  their  part  in  the  gradual  assimila- 
tion of  the  partially  unlike  elements  of  a  heterogeneous 
population.  It  is,  however,  the  socially  modified  imitation 
that  is  chiefly  efficient. 

Social  Imitation.  —  We  imitate  one  another  because  our 
nervous  apparatus  is  so  organized  that  any  sight  or  sound 
or  touch  is  a  stimulus  which  results  in  muscular  move- 
ments that,  by  long  habit,  have  become  associated  with 
such  stimuli.  If,  for  example,  you  see  your  friend  reach 
out  his  hand  for  a  glass  of  water,  the  chances  are  that 
unless  you  stop  to  think  about  it  and  deliberately  restrain 
yourself,  you  also  will  reach  out  to  take  the  glass  of  water 
that  stands  near  you.  We  imitate,  then,  except  when  we 
consciously  restrain  ourselves;  and  this  we  do  not  do 
if  the  action  imitated  is  pleasurable,  and  is  obviously 
conducive  to  well-being.  In  this  latter  case  our  con- 
scious will  reinforces  the  tendency  to  imitate,  and  we 
deliberately  repeat  our  own  and  one  another's  acts  in- 
definitely.    In  this  way  conscious  imitations  may  extend 


Socialization  73 

to  populations  numbered  by  millions,  and^  be  kept  up  for 
thousands  of  years.  Modern  civilization  is  the  continuing 
imitation  of  Greece  and  Rome.  This  imitation  was  estab- 
lished in  Germanic  Europe  by  Charlemagne.  It  was 
carried  to  England  by  William  the  Conqueror,  and  to 
America  by  Columbus.  It  is  now  being  spread  by  the 
nations  of  Europe  and  America  throughout  Asia,  Africa, 
Australia,  and  Oceanica. 

Not  all  imitations,  however,  indefinitely  survive.  The 
imitation  of  examples  in  any  way  remarkable  tends  to 
overcome  or  to  combine  lesser  imitations.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  in  each  nation  and  in  each  local  subdivision 
of  a  national  population  certain  habits,  such  as  customs 
in  eating,  clothing,  and  amusements,  are  practically  uni- 
versal there,  but  are  not  found  in  other  parts  of  the  world. 

In  every  population,  therefore,  there  may  be  ob- 
served a  general  approach  to  certain  persistent  types 
of  action,  expression,  and  character.  This  is  the  socializ- 
ing process  in  its  most  subtle  and  efficacious  mode.  It 
is  this  that  ultimately  blends  the  diverse  elements  of  the 
most  heterogeneous  populations  into  a  homogeneous  type. 
It  creates  a  common  speech,  common  modes  of  thought, 
and  common  standards  of  living.  By  destroying  or  soften- 
ing many  original  differences  of  speech,  belief,  and  prac- 
tice, it  promotes  intermarriage.  It  is  these  influences  that 
will  gradually  assimilate  all  the  foreign-born  elements  in 
the  population  of  the  United  States  to  a  persistent  Ameri- 
can type. 

The  Persistence  of  Conflict.  —  Imitations,  however,  are 
never  perfect.  The  example  or  copy  is  never  perfectly 
reproduced,  and  consequently,  as  any  action  or  custom 
spreads  from  person  to  person  and  from  group  to  group. 


74  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

it  in  some  measure  changes  its  form,  just  as  a  story  re- 
peated by  one  person  after  another  presently  becomes  so 
different  from  the  original  version  that  the  one  who  first 
told  it  can  hardly  recognize  it.  Imitations,  therefore,  tend 
to  multiply  and  subdivide  and  become  differentiated.  For 
this  reason  there  may  arise  in  any  society  a  conflict  among 
imitations.  When  this  happens,  one  of  two  results  must 
follow.  If  the  conflicting  imitations  are  irreconcilable, 
'  one  must  give  way  to  the  other.  If,  however,  they  can 
be  combined,  the  outcome  may  be  an  entirely  new  thing 
or  mode  of  activity;  namely,  an  invention.  The  most 
important  of  the  conflicts  between  imitations  is  that  be- 
tween imitations  of  things  old,  venerable,  long-standing, 
and  the  imitation  of  novelty.  The  one  kind  of  imitation 
we  call  custom ;  the  other  we  call  fashion.  At  times 
custom-imitation  encroaches  upon  fashion ;  at  other  times 
I  fashion  seems  to  encroach  upon  custom. 

While,  therefore,  imitation  on  the  whole  softens  conflict 
and  assimilates  the  unUke  elements  of  a  population,  it  at 
times  becomes  itself  a  cause  of  fresh  conflict  and  an 
obstacle  to  assimilation. 

Thus,  notwithstanding  the  socializing  motives,  there  re- 
main in  a  population  persistent  causes  of  the  more  serious 
modes  of  conflict. 

First,  of  course,  are  the  instincts  of  conquest  which  are 
kept  alive  by  the  necessity  of  destroying  life  to  maintain 
life,  and  the  instincts  of  aggression  that  are  kept  alive 
by  the  opposition  always  met  with  by  those  individuals 
and  populations  that  develop  more  rapidly  than  others- 
Wherever  civilization  finds  itself  face  to  face  with  sav- 
agery, or  a  young  and  growing  civilization  finds  itself 
opposed  to  one  old  and  decaying,  the  antagonism  is  too 


Socialization  75 

serious  to  expend  itself  in  the  lesser  fofms  of  secondary 
conflict. 

Secondly,  there  are  original  differences  of  nature  and 
habitjthat  have  not  yet  been  blended  or  neutralized  by 
the  process  of  assimilation. 

Thirdly,  there  are  the  secondary  differences  that  con- 
tinually arise  through  the  conflicts  of  imitation. 

To  these  must  be  added  occasional  causes  that  at  times 
operate  with  terrible  effect.  These  are  the  failure  of  or- 
dinary food  supplies,  as  in  times  of  famine,  and  the  occa- 
sional occurrence  of  some  great  calamity,  like  flood  or 
pestilence,  which  demoralizes  people  with  fear  and  so  far 
destroys  sympathy  and  self-sacrifice  as  to  leave  only  the 
animal  instincts  of  self-preservation  in  full  activity. 

Subjective  Toleration.  —  These  lapses  from  toleration, 
however,  are  not  enduring.  The  causes  that  establish 
toleration  in  the  first  instance  tend  to  reestablish  it  after 
every  failure.  Cooperating  with  the  tendency  of  primary 
conflict  to  bring  about  an  equilibrium  of  strength,  there  is 
now,  in  addition,  a  conscious  desire  for  the  amelioration 
of  strife.  Socialization  has  moulded  thought  and  charac- 
ter. In  addition  to  toleration  as  a  mere  objective  fact, 
there  has  at  length  appeared  an  idea  of  toleration  and 
a  wish  to  maintain  it.  There  has  come  into  existence  a 
subjective  toleration. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Using  the  "  Compendium  of  the  Eleventh  Census,"  make  coloured  or 
shaded  maps  showing  degrees  of  kinship  in  different  parts  of  the 
United  States.  In  Psychology,  study  or  review  the  subject  "  Percep- 
tion." Read  Aristotle's  "  Nicomachean  Ethics,"  Books  VIII  and  IX, 
Adam  Smith's  "  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments,"  Part  I,  Chapters  I-V, 
and  Tarde's  "  Les  Lois  de  I'Imitation." 


CHAPTER  VII 
Cooperation 

The  Nature  of  Cooperation.  —  Of  all  social  facts  none 
has  received  so  much  attention  or  been  so  carefully 
studied  as  cooperation. 

This  word  stands  for  many  kinds  of  mutual  aid.  We 
say  that  men  cooperate  when  they  combine  their  efforts 
to  accomplish  a  particular  task ;  as,  for  example,  that  of 
lifting  a  heavy  object  which  one  man  could  not  move. 
We  say  that  they  cooperate  when  they  work  together  in 
more  highly  organized  ways  ;  as,  for  example,  in  a  man- 
ufacturing estabhshment.  Again,  we  use  the  word  "co- 
operation "  for  combined  efforts  in  aggression  or  defence. 
The  soldiers  of  a  regiment  cooperate  with  one  another; 
regiments  themselves  cooperate;  infantry  and  artillery, 
army  and  navy,  cooperate.  Yet  again,  we  use  the  word 
"  cooperation  "  for  political  organization.  The  combination 
of  various  agencies  of  government  and  of  these  with  the 
obedience  to  law  by  all  good  citizens,  is  no  less  a  coopera- 
tion than  is  the  combination  of  efforts  in  industry  or  in 
military  operations. 

It  seems,  then,  that,  from  one  point  of  view,  nearly 
every  kind  of  activity  in  human  society  is  a  form  of  co- 
operation. For  this  reason  there  have  been  writers  on 
Sociology  who  have  described  cooperation  as  the  essential 

76 


Cooperation  yy 

and  distinctive  fact  of  society,  and  have  thought  that 
the  science  of  Sociology  was  concerned  chiefly  with  an 
account  of  the  forms  and  methods  of  cooperation. 

This  opinion  can  very  easily  be  shown  to  be  mistaken. 
Already  the  careful  reader  of  the  preceding  chapters  has 
become  aware  that  the  agreement,  the  unity  of  purpose 
and  of  method  on  the  part  of  two  or  more  individuals 
that  cooperation  requires,  is  not  possible  under  any  and 
all  conditions  that  may  be  imagined.  There  can  be  no 
cooperation  except  among  those  who  are,  in  a  good  degree, 
like-minded,  and  who  are  so  far  conscious  of  their 
agreement  that  they  can  intelligently  plan  their  common 
activity. 

This  is  merely  another  way  of  saying  that  cooperation 
can  be  established  only  in  a  population  which  in  a 
measure  has  become  socialized.  There  must  be  a  con- 
sciousness of  kind,  communication,  habits  of  imitation; 
or,  if  these  fail,  where  the  population  contains  ele- 
ments not  yet  assimilated  and  too  unlike  for  harmonious 
combination,  there  must  at  least  be  an  established  tolera- 
tion. 

Among  these  requisites  for  cooperation,  the  all-essential 
ones  are  the  like-mindedness  and  the  consciousness  of 
kind.     Why  this  is  so  must  now  be  explained. 

Obviously,  there  can,  be  no  cooperation  unless  there  is 
among  the  individuals  who  are  to  combine  their  efforts 
a  common  interest  in  some  object  or  end  which  they 
wish  to  attain.  Now  this  common  interest  is  that  men- 
tal fact  which  has  already  been  described  as  a  like 
response  to  the  same  stimulus.  If  a  score  of  men 
and  boys  on  the  street  unite  in  chasing  a  thief  who  has 
snatched  a  purse  from  a  pedestrian,  it  is   because  they 


yS  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

are  all  moved  in  like  ways  by  the  same  occurrence ;  their 
conduct  is  a  similar  response  to  the  same  stimulus. 

Moreover,  there  must  be  not  only  this  common  respon- 
siveness to  the  same  stimulus,  but  also  a  perception  by 
each  of  the  cooperating  individuals  that  he  and  all  of 
those  who  are  working  with  him  are  thus  responding. 
That  is,  each  must  understand  that  all  have  the  same 
interest  and  that  all  are  endeavouring  to  accomplish  the 
same  end.  If  this  perception  were  lacking,  cooperation 
would  be  only  a  momentary  occurrence  that  could  not 
be  continuously  maintained. 

Besides  these  mental  conditions  of  cooperation,  there 
must  of  course  be  communication,  and  there  must  be  con- 
fidence in  one  another. 

Already  the  student  will  have  reflected  that  these  men- 
tal conditions  together  are  a  consciousness  of  kind.  Like 
responsiveness  to  the  same  stimulus  and  the  perception  by 
each  that  all  have  the  same  interest,  are  respectively  a 
mode  of  like-mindedness  and  a  consciousness  of  like- 
mindedness;  while  communication  and  confidence  both 
grow  out  of  the  consciousness  of  kind  and  contribute  to  it. 

The  actual  relation  of  the  consciousness  of  kind  to 
cooperation  can  most  clearly  be  seen  from  an  examination 
of  a  few  examples. 

Let  us  suppose  that  it  is  proposed  to  organize  an  expe- 
dition to  develop  the  resources  of  some  hitherto  unoccu- 
pied portion  of  the  world,  which  is  believed  to  be  rich  in 
mineral  deposits  and  to  present  fine  opportunities  for  the 
development  of  agriculture  and  manufactures  later  on. 
The  promoters  of  the  enterprise  will  certainly  not  accept 
all  who  profess  to  desire  to  join  the  expedition.  Only 
those  will  be  taken  who  are  thought  to  have  the  physical 


Cooperation  79 

endurance,  the  ability  to  lead  a  life  of  hardship,  the  re- 
sourcefulness and  presence  of  mind  that  are  necessary 
in  hours  of  danger,  and,  above  all,  the  interest  and  faith 
in  the  expedition  which  will  make  them  loyal  to  the  enter- 
prise throughout  all  vicissitudes  and  disappointments. 

Suppose  again,  to  take  quite  a  different  example,  that 
a  group  of  workingmen  who  are  dissatisfied  with  their 
treatment  by  employers  propose  a  combined  resistance. 
One  of  two  plans  will  be  chosen :  either  a  trade  union  will 
be  organized,  including  those  and  only  those  who  are 
engaged  in  the  same  craft  or  industry ;  or  a  local  organ- 
ization will  be  formed,  including  all  those  employed  in 
many  different  industries,  who  have  a  common  grievance. 
In  either  case  it  is  obvious  that  the  test  of  like-mindedness 
is  applied.  Devotion  to  a  common  interest  is  made  a  final 
condition  of  the  proposed  cooperation. 

Yet  again,  suppose  that  political  cooperation  is  proposed. 
It  is  desired  to  convert  large  numbers  of  voters  to  a  belief 
in  the  wisdom  of  a  certain  policy  and  to  organize  them 
effectively  for  campaign  work.  All  voters  who  support 
this  policy  will  be  eagerly  welcomed  to  the  ranks  of  the 
party-following ;  but  diligence  will  be  exercised  in  organ- 
izing the  actual  work  of  electioneering.  Only  those  men 
will  be  accepted  as  campaign  speakers,  as  officers  of  the 
clubs  and  committees,  as  interviewers,  and  as  watchers  at 
the  polls,  who  are  known  to  be  earnestly  in  sympathy  with 
the  policy  that  is  at  stake. 

Once  again,  let  it  be  a  mere  social  organization  or  club 
that  is  to  be  brought  into  existence  and,  as  long  as  possi- 
ble maintained  for  the  pleasure  and  comfort  of  its  members. 
Here  also  the  tests  of  like-mindedness  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  kind  are  strictly  applied.     The  man  who  is  pro- 


8o  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

posed  for  membership  must  be,  as  the  saying  is,  a  clubable 
man ;  he  must  have  the  qualities  of  geniality,  good-fellow- 
ship, good  temper,  ability  to  contribute  his  share  to  pleas- 
ant conversation,  and  to  whatever  form  of  social  enjoyment 
happens  at  the  moment  to  be  uppermost. 

In  all  these  cases,  accordingly,  we  see  that  in  organizing 
any  form  of  cooperation,  the  men  who  have  the  enterprise 
in  charge  are  not  only  aware  of  the  importance  of  like- 
mindedness  and  of  a  consciousness  of  kind,  but  also  actually 
make  these  things  the  basis  of  the  selection  of  the  cooperat- 
ing individuals. 

Like-mindedness,  then,  and  the  consciousness  of  kind 
are  necessary  antecedents  of  cooperation  of  any  sort ;  and 
cooperation  is,  therefore,  not   the   fundamental   or   most 
^  I  general  fact  of  society. 

>  The  Causes  of  Cooperation.  —  We  have  now  further  to 
observe  that  not  only  must  like-mindedness  precede  coop- 
eration, but  also  that  if  the  like-mindedness  and  the  con- 
sciousness of  kind  exist,  the  cooperation  necessarily  fol- 
lows. When  a  population  is  undergoing  socialization  by 
the  processes  described  in  the  preceding  chapter,  it  en- 
gages in  cooperative  activities  as  a  necessary  consequence 
of  the  same  causes  and  conditions  that  establish  the  mental 
and  moral  changes  of  socialization. 

This  becomes  clearly  apparent  to  the  student  when  once 
more  he  recalls  the  fundamental  condition  of  all  social  ac- 
tivities^namely,  the  like  responsiveness  to  the  same  stimuli, 
and  remembers  that  like  responsiveness  is  the  doing  of  the 
same  thing  under  the  same  or  like  circumstances.  Like 
responsiveness  to  stimulus  shades  so  gradually  into  coop- 
eration that  it  is  often  difficult  to  discover  at  what  point 
the   cooperation   begins.      Where,   for   instance,   does   it 


Cooperation  v^^ 

begin  in  the  pursuit  of  the  thief  on  the  §treet,  mentioned 
a  moment  ago  ?  The  question  is  obviously  one  of  degrees 
or  stages  of  responsiveness.  If,  for  example,  all  the  men 
and  women  and  children  of  a  village  rush  out  of  their 
houses  to  see  a  fire  that  has  flamed  up  upon  the  horizon 
many  miles  away,  the  act  is  merely  a  like  response  to  the 
same  stimulus.  If,  a  few  hours  later,  the  fire  is  discovered 
to  be  a  prairie  or  forest  conflagration  that  is  sweeping  on- 
ward with  great  rapidity  towards  their  own  hamlet,  these 
people  begin  to  take  measures  to  prevent  the  destruction 
of  their  property.  They  go  out  with  ploughs  and  spades  to 
throw  up  furrows  of  earth  which  they  hope  the  flames  will 
not  cross.  We  now  speak  of  their  activity  as  cooperation. 
The  only  difference,  however,  between  their  conduct  at 
the  first  and  at  the  last  is  that  at  the  last  the  like  respon- 
siveness is  carried  a  stage  or  two  further  and  results  in 
the  accomplishment  of  a  purpose  of  common  interest. 

In  ways  like  this,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  all  cooperation 
arises;  and  under  favourable  circumstances,  all  like  respon- 
siveness to  the  same  stimulus  becomes  cooperation.  To 
the  uncritical  observer,  the  beginnings  of  cooperation  such 
as  may  be  seen  among  animals  and,  on  a  larger  scale, 
among  uncivilized  men,  seem  to  be  merely  accidental.  | 
Beetles  among  insects ;  mice,  rats,  and  squirrels  among 
rodents,  often  aid  each  other  in  moving  objects  too  heavy 
for  one  alone  to  manage.  Various  species  of  hunting 
birds  frequently  drive  fish  into  the  corner  of  a  bay  or  curve 
of  a  river  by  forming  a  line  across  the  water.  Packs  of 
hunting  animals  carry  cooperation  of  this  simple  sort  yet 
further.  In  all  these  cases  it  is  easy  to  say  that  the  coop- 
eration has  originally  been  purely  accidental,  and  that  it 
has  become  habitual  through  the  development  of  instinct 


82  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

by  natural  selection.  This  explanation,  however,  does  not 
go  to  the  root  of  the  matter.  Instinct  has  not  been  devel- 
oped by  natural  selection  without  having  had  material  to 
work  on ;  and  that  material,  in  all  cases,  has  been  the  like 
responsiveness  of  the  like  nervous  organizations  of  the 
cooperating  animals  or  men  to  the  same  stimulus. 

Among  like-minded  individuals,  cooperation  thus  neces- 
_^sarily  initiated  is  necessarily  further  developed  because  it 
yields  to  the  cooperating  individuals  the  same  kind  of 
pleasure. 

The  pleasure  here  referred  to  is  not  that  which  is  af- 
forded by  the  remoter  utilities,  such  as  an  abundance  of 
food,  or  security  against  danger,  in  which  the  cooperation 
presently  results  ;  it  is  the  immediate  pleasure  of  combined 
activity.  When  a  boat  crew  rows  or  a  football  team 
plays  for  practice,  it  not  only  enjoys  in  anticipation  the 
hoped-for  triumph  over  a  rival  organization  in  some  future 
contest,  but  it  enjoys  at  the  moment  the  pleasurable  reac- 
tion of  concerted  physical  and  mental  activity.  In  the  ex- 
citement of  play,  the  football  men  do  not  think  of  the  future 
victory  to  be  achieved;  they  are  absorbed  in  the  incidents 
of  the  immediate  contest.  All  cooperation,  bringing  indi- 
viduals together  in  combined  effort,  yields  this  stimulating 
excitement  in  a  greater  or  a  less  degree  and  therefore  more 
or  less  of  immediate  pleasure,  which  becomes  a  motive  for 
continuing  and  perfecting  the  cooperation. 

Thus  begun  and  partially  developed  by  like-minded  in- 
dividuals, cooperation  is  yet  further  developed  and  per- 
/  fected  because  the  remoter  utilities  which  it  creates  are 
by  its  like-minded  participants  regarded  in  like  ways.  If 
a  particular  mode  of  cooperation  produces  an  unwonted 
abundance   of   food  supplies,  or   establishes   a  degree  of 


Cooperation  83 

security  hitherto  unknown,  the  men  who^  have  engaged 
in  cooperative  activity  because  they  are  Uke-minded  neces- 
sarily see  and  interpret  the  results  in  substantially  the 
same  way ;  they  reason  in  substantially  the  same  way 
about  the  desirability  of  perpetuating  and  increasing  such 
results  by  a  further  extension  of  their  cooperation. 

For  three  reasons,  then,   cooperation,  which  can  arise 
only  among  the  like-minded,  among  them  necessarily  does 
arise  as  a  consequence  of  their  like-mindedness  and  social-    , 
ization.     They  respond  in  like  ways  to  the  same  stimuli,  U^ 
and  thus  find  themselves  actually  cooperating  before  they 
know   why   or   how.      They   find   the   same   pleasure   in     ^ 
cooperative  activity ;  and  therefore,  irrespective  of  its  re- 
moter results,  desire  to  continue  and  to  perfect  it.     In  like 
ways  they  perceive,  interpret,  and  reason  about  the  useful  jO 
results  more  remotely  flowing  from  cooperative  activity, 
and  therefore  decide  with  a  common  judgment  to  continue 
and  to  extend  it. 

The  Forms  of  Cooperation.  —  Thus  originating  in  like- 
mindedness,  cooperation  develops  into  various  forms  and 
through  successive  stages  of  complication,  step  by  step 
with  the  development  of  like-mindedness  itself  and  of  the 
consciousness  of  kind. 

In  its  beginnings,  cooperation  is  simple  and  direct  in 
its  plan  or  form.  Such,  for  example,  is  the  cooperation 
of  rural  neighbours  in  a  barn-raising  or  a  corn-husking. 

Another  simple  form  of  cooperation  is  indirect.  In- 
stead of  being  a  combination  of  the  efforts  of  two  or  more 
individuals  in  doing  precisely  the  same  thing,  it  is  a  com- 
bination of  their  efforts  in  achieving  the  same  general 
result  through  a  performance  of  different  specific  things. 
For  example,  each  of  two  men  in  a  camping  party  gets  an 


84  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

abundance  of  fish  and  meat  for  his  supper,  if  one  of  them 
has  spent  the  day  in  taking  trout,  and  the  other  in  shoot- 
ing game,  and  at  night  they  trade  portions  of  their  day's 
product.  The  cooperation  in  this  case  takes  the  form 
of  exchange.  All  trade  is  a  simple  but  indirect  form  of 
cooperation. 

Cooperation  becomes  complex  when  the  direct  and  in- 
direct forms  are  combined,  as  they  are  in  any  undertak- 
ing in  which  different  individuals,  engaged  in  creating  the 
same  product  or  result,  produce  very  different  parts  of  it 
or  work  in  different  ways.  In  a  manufacturing  establish- 
ment, the  cooperation  is  direct  because  all  the  operatives, 
mechanics,  foreman,  superintendent,  and  other  employes, 
are  engaged  in  producing  the  same  sort  of  goods.  It  is 
also  indirect  because  some  are  working  at  one  process 
with  one  kind  of  machinery,  others  at  a  different  process 
with  another  kind  of  machinery ;  and  because  some  super- 
intend or  direct,  while  others  are  directed  and  merely  fol- 
low instructions.  Any  operation  into  which  the  principles 
of  subordination  and  of  the  division  of  labour  enter  is  a 
complex  cooperation. 

In  the  modern  industrial  world,  these  complex  forms  of 
cooperation  enter  into  further  complications  through  their 
relations  with  one  another  in  the  market.  Great  manu- 
facturing businesses,  themselves  highly  complex  forms  of 
cooperation,  are  so  many  units  in  the  vast  system  of  com- 
mercial exchange.  In  its  entirety,  therefore,  the  indus- 
trial and  commercial  organization  of  modern  society  is  a 
cooperation  which  has  become  doubly  and  trebly  complex 
to  a  degree  that  can  be  fully  understood  only  by  the 
advanced  student  of  Political  Economy. 

And  even  this  marvellously  complicated  system  is  itself 


Cooperation  85 

only  a  unit  in  that  greater  cooperation  o{.  industrial  with 
political,  religious,  educational,  and  pleasurable  enter- 
prises, which,  together,  make  up  the  entire  activity  of 
modern  communities. 

The  extension  of  cooperation  from  its  simple  beginnings 
to  these  complicated  higher  forms  obviously  depends  upon 
an  extension  of  genuine  like-mindedness  throughout  the 
population  and  a  corresponding  expansion  of  the  con- 
sciousness of  kind. 

In  the  higher  forms  of  cooperation  each  individual  is 
working  for  and  with  others  who  may  be  widely  removed 
from  him  in  space  and  even  in  time.  The  merchant  who 
purchases  supplies  in  Asia,  South  America,  or  Europe  to 
sell  in  Nebraska  or  California  assumes  the  risks  of  his 
undertaking  only  because  he  knows  the  wants,  the  capaci- 
ties, the  habits  of  thought,  and  the  reputation  for  honesty, 
of  persons  separated  from  one  another  by  thousands  of 
miles  in  space  and  whom  he  has  never  personally  seen. 
Only  the  civilized  man  can  do  this  thing,  because  the  sav- 
age or  the  barbarian  is  incapable  of  understanding  or  even 
of  believing  that  men  beyond  his  own  range  of  personal 
acquaintance  are  sufficiently  like  himself  in  needs,  in  abili- 
ties, and  in  character,  to  make  cooperation  with  them  a 
possible  success.  In  like  manner,  the  capitalist  who  in- 
vests large  sums  in  a  new  and  untried  venture  builds 
upon  an  assumption  that  there  are  thousands  of  human 
beings  in  the  world  who  are  so  much  alike  in  their  mental 
and  moral  organization  that  they  all  will  become  pur- 
chasers of  the  highly  special  product  which  he  proposes 
to  put  upon  the  market,  and  upon  the  further  assumption 
that  human  nature  will  continue  to  be  in  the  future  so 
nearly  what  it  has  been  in  the  past,  that  he  can  count 


86  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

upon  the  continuing  cooperation  of  those  who  are  to  sup- 
ply his  materials  and  distribute  his  product. 

The  particular  elements  of  like-mindedness  that  are 
most  essential  to  the  higher  forms  of  cooperation  are 
those  which  enter  into  what  we  call  good  faith ;  and  a 
common  belief  throughout  the  community  in  the  general 
good  faith  of  the  individuals  composing  society  is  the  par- 
ticular form  of  the  consciousness  of  kind  that  also  is 
essential.  Although  we  have  laws  for  the  collection  of 
debts  and  the  enforcement  of  contracts,  a  majority  of 
business  transactions  are  really  based  upon  good  faith  and 
good  repute  and  nothing  more.  This  is  strikingly  exem- 
plified in  the  enormous  volume  of  transactions  constituting 
what,  in  the  United  States,  is  known  as  interstate  com- 
merce. Although  attempts  have  been  made  for  more 
than  a  generation  to  secure  from  Congress  a  national 
bankruptcy  law,  they  have  only  recently  been  successful, 
and  there  is  not  yet  any  uniform  law  governing  the  col- 
lection of  debts.  Notwithstanding  the  uncertainty  and 
the  costliness  therefore  attending  legal  actions  for  the  col- 
lection of  disputed  bills  beyond  the  boundaries  of  the  state 
in  which  the  creditor  resides,  the  distribution  of  goods 
from  every  state  into  every  other  state  goes  on  as  freely 
as  if  the  legal  machinery  were  of  the  most  perfect  de- 
scription. Every  transaction  is  really  based  upon  the 
good  faith  and  reputed  credit  of  the  interested  parties. 
This,  in  its  turn,  is  only  a  mode  of  the  consciousness  of 
kind  and  of  the  underlying  like-mindedness  which  is  the 
basis  of  cooperation  of  every  sort. 

Thus  the  study  of  cooperation  at  every  point  brings  us 
back  to  the  great  fundamental  truths  of  Sociology.  The 
like-mindedness  which  is  the  essential  social   fact   neces- 


Cooperation  Sy 

sarily  tends  to  establish  and  to  perfect  cooperation.  All 
cooperation  depends  upon  like-mindedness.  All  the  higher 
and  complicated  modes  of  cooperation  depend  upon  the 
extension  of  like-mindedness  and  the  expansion  of  the 
consciousness  of  kind. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Using  the  "Compendium  of  the  Eleventh  Census,"  prepare  an  analyti- 
cal table  showing  the  principal  forms  of  cooperation  in  the  United  States. 


I 


CHAPTER  VIII 
Social  Pleasure 

Forms  of  Social  Pleasure.  —  We  have  seen  that  coopera- 
tion, important  as  it  is  in  human  society,  is  not  the  funda- 
mental or  the  most  general  social  fact.  Cooperation  could 
not  come  into  existence  unless  men  were  already,  to  a 
great  degree,  social. 

We  have  now  to  notice  that  cooperation  falls  short  of 
being  completely  coextensive  with  social  activity  in  an- 
other way  also.  When  cooperation  has  been  established, 
association  is  not,  by  any  means,  complete.  The  pleas- 
ures that  companionship  and  cooperation  yield  have  still 
to  be  perfected.  Not  until  the  pleasure  of  association  has 
become  so  great  and  habitual  that  the  temptation  to  purely 
selfish  individual  gratification  would  have  to  be  very  strong 
to  overcome  the  counter  attraction  of  social  excitement,  is 
socialization  far  advanced. 

Human  beings  living  together  in  local  proximity  do  not 
have  to  invent  social  pleasure ;  but  they  soon  acquire  the 
habit  of  spending  much  time  and  thought  in  inventing 
and  perfecting  pleasurable  forms  of  social  intercourse. 
In  every  community  a  large  proportion  of  time  is 
spent  in  the  various  forms  of  social  pleasure  that  have 
no  other  foreseen  utility  than  the  immediate  enjoyment 
which  they  afford.  Their  object  is  not  to  make  any- 
body richer,  or  more  law-abiding,  or  more  religious,  but 

88 


Social  Pleasure  89 

solely  to  make  as  many  persons  as  possible  happy  for  the 
time  being ;  and  those  who  participate  in  them  have  long 
since  discovered  that,  of  all  means  of  happiness,  the  social 
pleasures  are  the  most  tempting  and  exhilarating. 

Already  it  has  been  shown  that  recognized  like-minded- 
ness  or  the  consciousness  of  kind  is  itself  a  pleasurable 
state  of  mind.  Sympathy,  affection,  agreement  in  taste 
and  in  opinion,  are  in  themselves  so  gratifying  that  no  one 
thinks  of  asking  of  what  use  they  are.  They  are  their 
own  reward. 

The  pleasure  that  they  afford,  however,  is  only  the  be- 
ginning of  social  enjoyment,  and  the  source  of  other  spe- 
cialized and  developed  means  of  social  pleasure. 

In  the  chapter  on  "How  Aggregations  of  People  are 
Formed,"  mention  was  made  of  the  various  modes  in  which 
the  energies  of  a  population  are  expended.  One  way,  it 
was  shown,  is  that  of  getting  a  living;  another  way  is 
reproduction;  and  a  third  is  wandering  and  migration. 
Whenever  a  population  has  become  socially  organized 
and,  by  means  of  cooperation,  has  economized  its  expendi- 
ture of  energy  in  getting  a  living  so  that,  with  a  given 
effort,  a  relatively  abundant  subsistence  is  obtained,  it  finds 
itself  with  a  surplus  of  energy  to  dispose  of  in  new  ways. 
Much  of  this  surplus  is  soon  devoted  to  amusement,  or 
other  purely  pleasurable  activity. 

This  is  only  the  occurrence  on  a  large  scale  of  what 
occurs  on  a  small  scale  in  the  life  of  every  individual,  and 
of  the  lower  animals  as  well  as  men.  When  the  imme- 
diate needs  of  the  body  are  abundantly  supplied  for  the 
time  being,  all  living  creatures  use  whatever  surplus  of 
energy  remains  in  the  exuberant  activities  of  play.  This 
expenditure,  of  course,  is  chiefly  found  among  the  young. 


90  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

There  is  no  more  instructive  observation  than  that  which 
notes  the  ceaseless  and  beautiful  play  of  young  birds  and 
animals.  One  can  readily  see  that  the  incessant  play  of 
the  young  in  animal  societies  is  a  chief  means  of  develop- 
ing the  social  instincts. 

In  human  society  the  playtime  of  childhood  serves  a 
similar  purpose.  It  is  on  the  playground  that  boys  and 
girls  learn  most  of  the  lessons  of  toleration,  sympathy, 
cooperation,  and  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  have 
those  experiences  of  the  pleasure  of  association  that,  in 
after  life,  make  them  both  appreciative  of  the  value  of 
society  and  able  to  contribute  to  its  defence  or  perfection. 

The  simplest  forms  of  social  pleasure  cultivated  by 
young  persons,  as  by  animals  and  by  savages,  are  to  a 
great  extent  imitations  of  the  more  serious  activities  of 
life  engaged  in  by  adults.  A  great  part  of  all  play  con- 
sists in  mimic  work  or  mimic  war.  Work  and  war  have 
been  the  serious  business  of  all  animal  species  and  of  all 
human  beings  since  their  life  upon  this  planet  began.  To 
get  enough  to  eat,  and  to  maintain  life  in  the  face  of  ene- 
mies, have  been  at  all  times  the  chief  concern  of  intelli- 
gent creatures.  In  every  part  of  the  world,  the  play  of 
young  animals  and  the  play  of  children  consists  largely 
of  mimic  combats  in  which  agility,  strength,  skill,  cun- 
ning, and  daring  have  been  developed  and,  by  their  exer- 
cise, have  afforded  keen  enjoyment  to  the  contestants  and 
to  spectators. 

All  this  is  true  also  of  social  pleasures  that  have  become 
somewhat  more  formal  in  character.  Dancing  is  a  good 
illustration.  The  forms  of  the  dance,  if  they  are  carefully 
studied,  are  found  to  be  derived  from  the  serious  business 
of  life.     The   march,  for  example,  describes  itself  as   of 


Social  Pleasure  9 1 

such  origin.  Some  of  the  less  simple  forms  have  been 
derived  from  imitations  of  the  chase,  and  from  imitations 
of  animal  movements  of  interest  to  the  hunter.  Among 
savage  men  dances  are  usually  severe  in  form  as  com- 
pared with  those  of  civilized  people.  This  is  because, 
to  a  certain  extent,  they  are  religious  in  character; 
and  when  the  student  of  Sociology  has  continued  his 
studies  sufficiently  to  investigate  the  origin  of  the  sacred 
dances  of  uncivilized  peoples,  he  will  discover  that  they 
are  connected  with  forms  of  animal  worship.  They  imi- 
tate the  running,  leaping,  flying,  and  other  spontaneous 
movements  of  the  animal  species  that  are  worshipped  and 
mimicked.  From  these  origins,  by  a  very  slow  evolution, 
have  been  derived  the  graceful  movements  of  modern 
waltzes,  polkas,  and  other  dance  forms. 

Another  form  of  social  pleasure  among  adult  human 
beings  is  the  common  meal  which,  in  its  statelier  forms, 
becomes  the  banquet.  That  the  common  meal  should 
develop  into  a  universally  appreciated  form  of  social 
pleasure  is  a  most  natural  occurrence.  It  brings  together 
those  who  have  become  weary  in  the  labour  of  obtaining 
and  preparing  the  food  supply,  whether  by  the  primitive 
mode  of  hunting  and  fishing,  by  the  toil  of  the  farmer, 
or  by  the  effort  and  thought  of  the  business  man.  The 
common  meal  is  the  satisfaction  for  which  the  effort  has 
been  put  forth;  and. it  affords  occasion  to  combine  with 
the  gratification  of  bodily  appetite  the  pleasures  of  dis- 
cussion, of  story-telling,  and  of  wit. 

From  the  primary  social  pleasures  above  described  have 
been  derived  social  pleasures  of  a  secondary  order  which 
I      are  developed  through  the  cultivation   of  various  forms 

L"  — 


92  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

grown  our  philosophy  and  our  law.  From  the  story-tell- 
ing of  such  occasions  have  been  derived  our  higher  forms 
of  literature  —  the  epic,  the  historical  narrative,  and  the 
novel.  From  the  primitive  dance,  with  its  mimicry  and 
its  choral  song,  have  come  our  drama,  our  lyric  poetry, 
and  our  music.  The  pleasures  that  we  derive  from  all 
these  creations  of  the  mind  are  social.  Even  when  we 
enjoy  them  in  solitude  we  are  in  imagination  living  with 
our  fellow-men ;  participating  with  them  in  conflict,  shar- 
ing in  their  loves  and  their  hatreds,  sympathizing  with 
them  in  suffering,  and  rejoicing  with  them  in  success. 

The  Function  of  Social  Pleasure.  —  Social  pleasures  are 
so  easily  abused  that  it  is  not  strange  that  in  all  ages  large 
numbers  of  sincere  men  and  women  have  called  them  evil, 
and  have  sought  to  diminish  their  power  over  the  people. 
In  the  excitement  of  social  pleasure,  work  and  duty  may 
be  forgotten,  and  the  strength  of  character  which  is  main- 
tained by  self-denying  struggle  may  be  lost.  Nations  that 
have  surrendered  themselves  unreservedly  to  pleasure  have 
become  effeminate,  cruel,  and  corrupt.  No  one  can  read 
of  the  moral  abasement  of  the  Roman  people  as,  year  by 
year,  they  gave  themselves  over  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
brutal  contests  of  'the  arena  and  to  the  luxuries  of  their 
thermae,  without  feeling  that  ascetics  have  had  reason 
for  their  hostility  to  any  public  recognition  or  systematic 
cultivation  of  pleasure. 

Nevertheless,  nothing  is  more  unscientific  than  to  con- 
found the  effects  of  excess  and  abuse  with  those  of  normal 
use.  The  anchorite  of  the  Middle  Ages,  who  cut  himself 
off  from  association  with  his  fellow-men  and  deprived  him- 
self of  every  enjoyment,  was  not  less  a  moral  monstrosity 
than  the  sybarite  of  earlier  days. 


Social  Pleasure  93 

Therefore,  while  no  community  can  afford  to  forget  that 
the  cultivation  of  social  pleasure  at  the  exf^ense  of  sturdier 
social  activities  is  a  fatal  error,  it  can  no  more  afford  to 
forget  that  social  pleasure,  under  rational  control,  is  the 
original  motive  of  social  development.  We  might  as  well 
expect  the  mechanism  of  our  industrial  establishments,  of 
our  railways,  and  of  our  steamships  to  move  without  steam 
and  electricity,  as  to  expect  society  to  maintain  its  normal 
activities  without  social  pleasure. 

The  task  of  the  social  reformer  is  to  contribute  all  that 
he  can  to  the  further  refinement  of  social  pleasure,  to  the 
elimination  of  modes  of  pleasure  that  are  too  coarse  or  too 
brutal  to  be  longer  tolerated  among  civilized  human  beings, 
and  to  perfect  a  rational  control  of  the  conditions  under 
which  social  pleasures  are  enjoyed.  He  should  remember, 
moreover,  that  true  social  pleasure  is  essentially  unselfish. 
Those  who  participate  in  it  should  never  forget  that  its 
perfect  development  demands  of  them  solicitude  for  the 
happiness  of  their  companions.  Those  who  look  upon 
social  pleasure  from  this  point  of  view  are  in  little  danger 
of  carrying  their  own  enjoyment  to  excess  or  of  cultivating 
it  by  unworthy  means. 

One  of  the  most  imperative  duties  of  philanthropic  men 
and  women  at  the  present  time  is  that  of  improving  the 
social  pleasures  of  the  neglected  poor.  Nothing  would  so 
greatly  contribute  to  the  moral  uplifting  and  the  political 
regeneration  of  our  great  cities  as  a  development  of  true 
social  pleasures  among  those  who  now  seek  relief  from 
weariness  and  trouble  in  indulgences  that  merely  drag 
them  down  to  lower  depths  of  misery  and  degradation. 
Perhaps  no  one  subject  in  Sociology  is,  from  the  practical 
point  of  view,  deserving  of  more  painstaking  study  than 


94  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

this  of  the  kinds  and  degrees  of  social  pleasure  that  are 
necessary  to  the  well-being  of  communities. 

PARALLEL   STUDY 

Make  an  analytical  and  classificatory  table  of  the  prevailing  social 
pleasures  in  a  familiar  local  community.  From  Lecky's  "  History  of 
European  Morals  "  prepare  a  sketch  showing  the  improvement  in  the 
character  of  social  pleasures  since  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  Era. 


CHAPTER   IX 

The  Social  Nature 

Origins  of  the  Social  Nature.  —  From  time  to  time,  in  the 
foregoing  chapters,  allusion  has  been  made  to  mental  and 
moral  changes  that  occur  in  the  individual  as  a  conse- 
quence of  his  association  with  fellow-beings.  We  must 
now  examine  these  changes  in  somewhat  greater  detail 
and  discover  how,  in  course  of  time,  they  develop  in  man 
a  social  nature. 

There  was  a  time  when  the  human  mind  was  studied  as 
if  it  were  an  independent  thing.  The  various  states  of 
mind  were  analyzed  and  classified.  No  one  thought 
of  asking  whether  they  had  been  produced  by  the  inter- 
play of  the  mind  with  other  minds  and  with  physical 
nature.  In  short,  the  mind  was  studied  as  if  it  had  either 
existed  from  all  time  without  change,  or  had  instantly 
come  into  existence  complete  and  fully  prepared  for  the 
experiences  of  life. 

Psychologists  no  longer  think  of  the  mind  in  any  such 
way,  or  study  it  in  any  such  imperfect  manner.  They 
now  inquire  how  the  mind  develops  from  those  simpler 
states  of  consciousness  which  are  mere  sensations  until  \/ 
it  becomes  capable  of  engaging  in  long  and  complicated 
reasoning  processes,  of  forming  judgments  on  difficult 
questions,  and  of  experiencing  such  complex  emotions  as 

95 


g6  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

are  awakened  by  one  of  Shakespeare's  tragedies,  or  Bee- 
thoven's symphonies,  or  Wagner's  operas. 

In  studying  the  mind  from  this  evolutionary  or  genetic 
point  of  view,  it  is  discovered  that  in  almost  every  experi- 
ence and  in  every  stage  of  growth,  the  social  intercourse 
of  an  individual  with  his  fellow-beings  is  one  of  the  chief 
influences  at  work  upon  his  own  processes  of  thought, 
affection,  and  will. 

Intellectual  Development.  —  In  the  chapter  on  "  The 
Practical  Activities  of  Socii "  we  have  seen  how,  in  the 
earliest  years  of  a  child's  life,  he  learns  to  think  of  himself 
in  terms  of  his  observations  of  companions,  and  to  think 
of  them  and  of  inanimate  things  also  in  terms  of  himself. 
In  the  same  chapter  and  subsequently,  we  have  further 
seen  how  important  a  fact  imitation  is,  and  how  important 
also  are  impression,  suggestion,  sympathy,  and  affection. 
We  therefore  need  not  linger  here  to  reconsider  the  mental 
and  moral  results  of  association  that  take  the  form  of  these 
mental  states.  We  may  rather  give  attention  to  some  of 
the  more  complex  and  later  developed  results  of  associa- 
tion, which  make  the  individual  more  and  more  fit  for  his 
place  in  a  social  group. 

Among  the  higher  intellectual  powers,  without  which 
there  could  be  no  such  cooperation  as  one  sees  in  modern 
civilized  communities,  no  such  organization  of  industry,  law, 
and  government,  may  be  named  the  powers  of  persistent 
attention,  generalization,  and  abstract  reasoning.  All  sci- 
ence and  philosophy  are  made  possible  by  these  attain- 
ments, and  all  the  higher  arts  of  civilization  are  made 
possible  by  science. 

Each  of  these  mental  attainments,  however,  is  due 
chiefly  to  the  association  of  the  individual  thinker  with  his 


The  Social  Nature  97 

fellow-men.  Children  and  savages  are  n€>toriously  lacking 
in  the  power  of  sustained  attention.  Their  minds  easily 
wander  from  one  subject  to  another.  This  is  partly  due 
to  mere  immaturity,  and  partly  to  a  certain  lack  of  vigour  of 
the  brain  to  sustain  hard  work.  Power  of  attention  is  ac- 
quired through  those  experiences  of  association  which  fix 
attention  for  long  periods  together  upon  the  same  fact, 
such  as  an  interesting  event,  a  common  danger,  or  an 
exciting  strife.  These  experiences  gradually  strengthen 
attention  until  it  can  be  sustained  under  less  stimulating 
circumstances  also. 

One  of  the  chief  means  by  which  the  attention  of  chil- 
dren is  disciplined  is  that  developed  kind  of  play  which 
we  call  a  game.  Any  organized  game  requires  for  its 
successful  practice  perfect  and  prolonged  attention  to  all 
its  rules  and  details.  Baseball,  football,  and  rowing  con- 
tests are  among  the  best  examples  from  out-of-door  sports, 
while  checkers,  chess,  and  billiards  are  equally  good  exam- 
ples among  indoor  games.  These,  however,  represent 
rather  highly  developed  products  of  social  amusement.  A 
much  earlier  means  of  strengthening  attention,  both  with 
children  and  among  uncivilized  men,  is  story-telling.  The 
story  is,  in  fact,  the  earliest  means  of  fixing  the  attention 
of  the  child  for  any  considerable  number  of  minutes  to- 
gether. 

The  power  of  abstract  thought,  including  generalization 
and  reasoning,  presupposes  a  perception  of  uniformity. 
This  sort  of  perception  grows  out  of  the  habit  of  noticing 

■  resemblances.     In  a  certain  sense,  all  uniformities  are  re- 

■  semblances.     When,  for  example,  the  scientific  man  says 

■  that  hundreds  of  different  species  of  animals  may  be  put 
K    in  one  great  class  together,  as  vertebrates,   and  that  all 

L    " 


J 


98  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

vetebrates  show  certain  uniformities  in  their  mode  of  life, 
especially  in  their  locomotion,  he  is  simply  putting  into 
the  most  general  possible  expression  the  results  of  many 
thousands  of  observations  of  the  resemblances  of  these 
different  species  to  one  another. 

Such  accumulations  of  the  observations  of  resemblance 
and  of  difference  cannot  be  made  by  any  one  man.  They 
are  made  by  thousands  of  men  who  communicate  their 
observations  to  one  another,  and  so  make  them  the  com- 
mon property  of  all  scientific  observers.  Moreover,  they 
are  continued  through  successive  generations,  each  of 
which  inherits  the  observations  made  by  the  preceding 
generations  and  transmits  them  to  the  generations  that 
follow.  Generalization,  then,  and  the  abstract  thought  of 
science,  are  possible  only  in  society.  They  depend  upon 
the  influence  of  one  mind  upon  another,  upon  communica- 
tion and  cooperation. 

Not  only  is  this  true,  but  also  the  scientific  habit  of 
mind  itself,  the  love  of  scientific  occupation,  is  produced 
chiefly  by  the  influence  of  one  mind  upon  another ;  it  is 
produced  by  example,  by  suggestion,  by  direct  teaching, 
by  sympathy,  and  by  the  love  of  approbation.  Probably 
every  man  who  has  ever  become  distinguished  through  his 
intellectual  attainments  has  been  stimulated  to  his  best 
endeavours  by  his  knowledge  of  what  other  men  before  him 
have  accomplished,  and  by  his  desire  to  equip  himself  as 
well  as  the  best  of  them  have  done,  and  perhaps  to  discover 
new  truths  that  they  failed  to  perceive. 

Finally,  what  we  call  originality  of  thought  is  also  a 
product  of  social  relations.  Original  thought  is  possible 
only  when  one's  beliefs  admit  of  modification.  If  all  of 
us   were  satisfied  with  the   theories  of  the  world  and  of 


The  Social  Nature 


99 


man  that  were  taught  to  us  by  our  elders,  we  should 
never  give  to  the  world  any  new  truth.  How,  then,  are 
the  beliefs  that  we  have  received,  from  time  to  time  modi- 
fied ?  The  answer  is,  by  those  new  and  varied  experi- 
ences which  afford  us  new  points  of  view  and  discoveries 
of  fact  not  before  known  by  mankind.  But  these  varied 
experiences,  in  their  turn,  we  owe  chiefly  to  association 
with  our  fellow-men.  The  continual  movement  of  popu- 
lation in  emigration,  in  travel,  in  exploration,  colonization, 
war,  and  conquest,  are  the  means  by  which  the  mental 
horizon  of  humanity  is  widened,  by  which  old  beliefs  are 
subjected  to  new  criticism,  and  new  beliefs  are  established 
as  a  result  of  fuller  experience. 

The  Practical  Judgment.  —  One  intellectual  product  of 
social  relations  must  be  more  particularly  noticed.  This  is 
the  practical  judgment.  As  a  result  of  their  common  ex- 
periences, men  who  live  together  in  social  groups,  and  in 
continual  communication  with  one  another,  arrive  at  like 
judgments  upon  the  important  practical  affairs  of  every- 
day life.  How  a  man  should  conduct  himself  with  refer- 
ence to  his  probable  success  in  earning  a  living,  what 
branches  of  knowledge  he  should  endeavour  to  master,  how 
he  should  treat  his  fellow-men  in  daily  intercourse,  how  he 
should  think  about  his  country,  its  laws  and  government, — 
all  these  things  are  subjected  to  a  judgment,  in  the  ver- 
dicts of  which  a  great  majority  of  men  are  substantially 
agreed.  It  is  a  sort  of  judgment  which  fits  the  individual^ 
for  life  in  society.  If,  on  the  whole,  his  opinions  of  these 
practical  affairs  are  in  agreement  with  those  of  his  fellow- 
men,  and  with  the  results  of  the  common  experience  of 
those  who  compose  the  social  group,  they  say  that  he  is  a 
man  of  good  or  sound  judgment.     If,  on  the  contrary,  his 


100  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

views  are  very  unlike  those  of  men  in  general,  he  at  once 
becomes  an  object  of  curiosity  or  of  suspicion.  If,  for  any 
reason,  the  community  suspects  that  his  notions  are  su- 
perior to  those  of  the  average  man,  he  is  regarded  with  a 
certain  degree  of  respect  or  even  veneration.  This,  how- 
ever, cannot  happen  unless,  from  time  to  time,  his  novel 
opinions  turn  out  to  be  right,  as  demonstrated  by  some 
practical  test.  In  the  long  run,  experience  is  accepted  by 
communities  as  the  test  of  good  judgment.  If  the  individ- 
ual's judgments,  differing  from  those  of  the  average  man, 
prove  in  experience  to  be  bad,  that  is,  if  they  often 
bring  him  and  others  into  needless  trouble  or  ridicule, 
he  is  regarded  as  a  crank  or  dangerous  person,  more  or 
less  unfit  for  cooperation  with  his  fellow-men  in  any  prac- 
tical matter. 

/  I  Association,  then,  moulds  the  nature  of  individuals, 
making  them  more  tolerant,  sympathetic,  and  friendly,  as 
was  explained  in  preceding  chapters ;  more  thoughtful, 
intelligent,  and  judicious,  as  has  been  explained  in  the 
foregoing  paragraphs.  In  their  totality,  these  changes 
develop  a  social  nature;  that  is,  a  nature  fit  for  life  in 
social  relations. 

Qualities  of  the  Social  Nature.  —  We  will,  therefore,  in 
concluding  this  chapter,  bring  together  in  one  view  the 
qualities  which  association  develops,  and  which  together 
constitute  the  social  nature. 

The  true  social  nature  is  susceptible  to  suggestion  and 
imitative,  and  thereby  capable  of  learning  from  fellow- 
beings.  This  capacity  is  sufficient  to  make  the  social 
individual  desirous  to  live  at  least  as  well  as  the  fairly  suc- 
cessful members  of  his  community.  He  desires  to  enjoy 
what  others  enjoy,  to  do  what  others  do,  and  to  act  as 


The  EocicipNdtiir/  \  loi 

others  act.  It  is  true  that  the  man  who  ha^  no  other  capac 
ity  would  be  Httle  better  than  a  machine.  He  would  be 
of  little  more  account  than  a  puppet  in  a  punch-and-judy 
show.  Nevertheless,  unless  to  a  great  extent  he  is  like 
his  fellows,  desiring  what  they  desire,  and  doing  what  they 
do,  society  and  practical  cooperation  of  any  kind  are  alto- 
gether impossible. 

Yet,  since  human  beings  living  in  society  are  not  mere 
punch-and-judy   puppets,    the   social    nature    is   to    some  ^ 
extent   originative.      It   not   only   learns   from  others ;  it- 
^^also  teaches  others.     It  makes  new  combinations  of  imita- 
tions7~it-makes  inventions  in  the  sphere  of  thought  and 
conduct,  and  sets  new  examples.     This  it  is.^£na]il£d-to-t!o' 
because,  by  varied  contact  with  many  phases  of  life  made 
possible   by   wide   association,    it   enjoys   many   different 
experiences  which  inevitably  combine  in  peculiar  ways  and 
with  peculiar  results  in  the  life  of  each  separate  individual. 

The  social  nature  is  tolerant.  It  has  learned  through  ')) 
social  experience  that  the  primary  conflict  can  successfully 
be  waged  only  against  those  inferior  creatures  that  can 
be  utilized  by  man  as  a  food  supply,  and  against  those 
persistently  unlike  and  antagonistic  members  of  his  own 
race  who  choose  to  remain  hostile  to  the  social  organiza- 
tion to  which  he  belongs.  So  far  as  the  members  of  his 
own  social  group  are  concerned,  he  realizes  their  likeness 
to  himself  and  their  equality  with  him  in  many  important 
respects.  He  has  learned  to  give  them  the  same  opportu- 
nities, immunities,  and  enjoyments  that  he  claims  for 
himself ;  and  he  has  not  only  decided  as  a  matter  of  judg- 
ment that  this  is  wise,  but  he  has  also  learned  to  feel  as  an 
experience  of  his  emotional  nature  that  it  is  desirable  and 
agreeable.     The  social  nature,  however,  is  not  merely  tol- 


102  •'•'■'■  lj£eyR'le^ntji^§^\ojo<S,q<:iology 

erant  in  the  negative  sense  of  being  non-aggressive ;  it  is 
positively  sympathetic,  companionable,  and  helpful.  It 
enjoys  comradeship,  communication,  social  pleasure,  and 
cooperation.  It  would  be  unhappy  in  isolation,  and  dis- 
satisfied if  at  work  in  an  absolutely  individual  way  without 
relation  to  the  industry  and  patriotism  of  other  men. 

Finally,  the  social  nature  is  judicious.  It  is  satisfied 
that,  on  the  whole,  the  average  judgments  of  mankind 
are  justified  by  experience.  It  cannot,  to  be  sure,  be 
perfectly  satisfied  with  any  judgment,  much  less  with 
all  judgments.  It  is  at  all  times  ready  to  criticise,  to 
direct,  or  to  devise;  but  this  it  does  in  no  cranky,  captious, 
or  quixotic  way.  It  assumes  that,  for  the  purposes  of 
social  unity  and  cooperation,  men  must  respect  one  an- 
other's judgments ;  and  that  new  beliefs  can  be  made 
practically  available  only  as  large  numbers  of  men  are 
converted  to  them.  The  individual,  protesting  alone 
against  the  opinions  of  his  fellow-members  of  society,  may 
possibly  be  right,  and  they  may  possibly  be  wrong ;  but 
not  until  they  are  convinced  of  error  can  he  wisely  and 
rightly  undertake  to  put  his  views  into  practical  operation. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Read  Spencer's  "Principles  of  Psychology,"  Volume  II,  Part  VIII, 
or  Baldwin's  "  Mental  Development,"  "  Social  and  Ethical  Interpreta- 
tions," Part  III. 


CHAPTER  X 

The  Classes  of  Socii 

Inequality.  —  From  what  has  been  said  about  the  effect 
of  associatiofl-mjnodifying  the  mental  and  moral  natures 
of  individuals  it  is  not  to  be  inferred  that  the  effect  is  the 
same  in  all  cases,  or  that  the  social  nature  is  equally  de- 
veloped in  all  members  of  the  community. 

There  are  many  reasons  for  the  differences  and  ine- 
qualities noticeable  among  the  effects  of  association.  Not 
all  men  associate  habitually  with  the  same  individuals,  or 
associate  with  any  individuals  in  the  same  degree.  More- 
over, as  we  already  know,  while  associating  individuals 
at  the  outset  have  many  points  of  resemblance,  they  pre- 
sent also  many  points  of  difference.  They  start  with 
unequal  bodily  powers,  the  results  of  widely  different  con- 
ditions of  heredity,  and  with  yet  more  unequal  intellectual 
and  moral  qualities. 

Always  undergoing  changes  in  its  own  character  and 
degree  with  changing  circumstances,  association  combines 
with  the  original  inequalities  of  men  to  produce  further 
differences.  By  no  possibility  can  it  happen  that  all  can 
share  so  equally  in  the  benefits  of  economic  association 
that  all  shall  obtain  equally  good  nourishment.  Even  if 
a  socialistic  communism  were  established,  and  a  sincere 
attempt  to  distribute  wealth  equally  among  all  were  in 
good  faith  carried  out  as  far  as  possible,  equality  of  nutri- 

103 


104  "^^^  Elements  of  Sociology 

tion  could  not  in  fact  be  maintained.  It  would  happen  that 
some  supplies  of  grain,  meat,  and  fruit  would  be  better 
than  others;  that  some  would  be  better  preserved  than 
others ;  that  the  sanitary  condition  of  some  houses  and 
streets,  notwithstanding  the  attempt  to  make  them  all 
alike,  would  in  fact,  on  account  of  greater  difficulties  to 
be  overcome,  be  always  inferior  to  others ;  and  that  these 
differences,  combined  with  differences  of  bodily  constitu- 
tion at  birth,  would  make  great  differences  of  vitality  in 
adult  life,  just  as  they  do  now. 

In  like  manner,  no  attempt  to  distribute  equally  the 
mental  benefits  of  association  through  free  education,  free 
libraries,  museums,  and  schools  of  art  can  perfectly  suc- 
ceed. Some  teachers  are  better  than  others,  and  their 
pupils  gain  an  advantage  over  pupils  that  are  badly  in- 
structed. Some  readers,  from  their  earliest  days,  fall  in 
with  good  books  and  good  advice,  and  store  their  minds 
with  useful  knowledge  and  their  imaginations  with  forms 
of  beauty ;  while  others  have  the  ill  fortune  to  acquire 
early  a  taste  for  reading  that  only  depraves. 

Consequently  it  happens  that  inequality  in  physical, 
mental,  and  moral  power,  and  varieties  of  disposition,  are 
always  to  be  discovered  in  a  social  population. 

Even  among  these  differences,  however,  resewwlances 
may  be  noticed;  and  they  may  therefore  be  grouped  in 
classes  or  kinds.  This,  of  course,  means  that  the  mei^ 
bers  of  a  social  population,  among  whom  the  differences 
mentioned  are  found,  may  themselves  be  grouped  by  the 
student  into  classes  or  kinds  of  socii.  That  is  to  say,  a 
social  population  is  always  differentiated  into  classes.  We 
shall  call  them  population  classes,  or  classes  of  socii. 

There  are  three  fundamental  or  primary  orders  of  pop- 


The  Classes  of  Socii  105 

ulation  classes.  They  are,  namely :  vitality  classes,  per- 
sonality classes,  and  social  classes.  Other  classes,  often 
spoken  of  in  economic  and  political  discussion,  are : 
political  classes,  industrial  classes,  and  economic  classes. 
Thus,  for  example,  works  on  history  abound  in  such  dis- 
tinctions as  ruling  classes  and  subject  classes,  aristocratic 
classes  and  democratic  classes.  These  are  political  dis- 
tinctions. A^in,  in  works  on  Political  Economy  and  in 
newspaper  and  ma^^azine  articles,  we  meet  with  such  dis- 
tinctions as  the  employing  classes  and  the  working  classes. 
These  are  industrial  distinctions.  Yet  again,  we  contin- 
ually hear  of  the  rich  classes  and  the  poor  classes.  These 
are  economic  distinctions.  Now  all  these  classes,  namely, 
the  political,  the  industrial,  and  the  economic,  are  sec- 
ondary, and  not  to  be  confounded  with  the  primary  classes 
of  socii.  Secondary  population  classes  are  highly  special 
products  of  advanced  social  evolution.  There  are  many 
social  groups  in  the  world  in  which  there  are  no  political 
distinctions,  no  industrial  distinctions,  and  hardly  any  eco- 
nomic differences.  But  there  is  no  community,  large  or 
small,  in  which  the  vitality,  personality,  and  social  classes 
are  not  to  be  found.  This  is  a  truth  worthy  of  serious 
consideration  because,  through  ignoring  it,  much  confu- 
sion !fc.s  been  introduced  into  statistical  investigation, 
and  into  a  great  many  economic  and  sociological  dis- 
cussions. --^ 

The  Vitality  Classes  are  the  simplest  and  most  immedi-  CLi^ 
ate  direct  results  of  association.     There  are  three  vitality 
classes,  which  may   be   designated  as   the  high,  the  me- 
dium, and  the  low. 

The  High  Vitality  Class  is  composed  of  those  individ-  '^ 
uals  who  have  a  high  birth  rate,  a  low  death  rate,  and 


^^ 


1 06  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

I 
a  high  degree  of  bodily  vigour  and  mental  powex.     The 

birth  rate  is  the  number  of  births  yearly  in  each  thou- 
sand of  the  population.  The  death  rate  is  the  number  of 
deaths  yearly  in  each  thousand  of  the  population.  It  is 
obvious  that  a  population  which  has  not  only  great  indi- 
vidual vigour  of  body  and  mind,  but  also  a  high  degree  of 
reproductive  power  and  a  low  death  rate,  so  that  it  in- 
creases rapidly  from  generation  to  generation,  has,  on  the 
whole,  a  high  degree  of  vitality.  Consequently,  that  por- 
tion of  a  population,  in  which  this  high  vitality  is  most 
conspicuously  found,  may  very  properly  be  called  the  high 
vitality  class. 

The  Medium  Vitality  Class  is  composed  of  those  indi- 
viduals in  the  population  who  have  a  fair  degree  of  bodily 
vigour,  an  unusually  high  degree  of  mental  vigour  —  the 
result  of  an  especially  fine  development  of  the  brain  and 
nervous  system,  a  rather  low  death  rate,  and  a  low  birth 
rate.  These  individuals,  while  their  nervous  energy  is 
great  and  their  death  rate  low,  have,  on  account  of  their 
low  birth  rate  and  only  fair  bodily  vigour,  a  somewhat  lower 
total  vitality  than  that  of  the  high  vitality  class. 

The  Low  Vitality  Class  is  composed  of  those  individuals 
in  the  population  who,  while  they  may  and  usually  do  have 
a  high  birth  rate,  have  also  an  extraordinarily  high  death 
rate,  a  low, degree  of  bodily  vigour,  and  only  a  low  degree 
of  mental  power.  This  class,  notwithstanding  its  high 
birth  rate,  is  evidently  lower  in  total  vitality  than  either 
of  the  other  two  classes. 

Distribution.  —  Of  course  the  student  will  wish  to  know 
where  these  three  classes  are  found.  Do  they  correspond 
to  any  particular  geographical  sections  of  the  population, 
or  to  occupation,  or  to  economic  condition  ? 


The  Classes  of  Socii  107 

The  first  vitality  class  roughly  corresponds  to  the  better 
sort  dLlarmers  —  that  part  of  the  rural  population  which 
is  well-to-do,  and  both  owns  and  tills  the  land  that  it  oc- 
cupies. It  is  this  population  that  chiefly  maintains  the 
physical  vigour  and  insures  the  growth  of  the  community. 
It  is  this  population  that  is  continually  sending  vigorous, 
energetic,  and  brainy  men  to  the  towns  and  cities  to  en- 
gage there  in  business  oCctrpatioTis^nd  the  learned  profes- 
sions. The  high  vitality  class  includes  also  large  numbers 
of  individuals  living  in  towns  and  cities,  and  engaged  in 
business  or  professional  life,  or  employed  as  mechanics  or 
even  as  labourers.  But  all  these  together  make  up  only  a 
minority  of  the  high  vitality  class.  The  great  bulk  of  the 
class  is  found  in  the  rural  and  land-owning  part  of  the 
population. 

The  second  vitality  class  corresponds  in  the  same  rough 
way  to  the  business  and  professional  men  of  the  large 
towns  and  great  cities.  These  men  are  continually  en- 
gaged in  exhausting  brain  activity,  and,  as  a  rule,  their 
families  increase  slowly,  notwithstanding  their  loW  death 
rate,  which  is  kept  down  by  intelligent  attention  to  sani- 
tary conditions  and  to  hygienic  living. 

The  third  vitality  class  roughly  corresponds  to  the  igno- 
rant and  uncleanly  part  of  the  slum  population  of  the 
cities,  and  to  the  equally  ignorant  and  uncleanly,  shiftless, 
and  thriftless  part  of  the  rural  population.  Every  one 
acquainted  with  country  life  knows,  within  the  circle  of 
his  own  observation,  numerous  ne'er-do-well  families  that 
belong  to  this  class  and  description. 

That  these  three  classes  are  results  of  association,  the 
student  should  have  no  difficulty  in  understanding  if  he 
has  mastered  the  earlier  chapters  of  this  book.     Associa- 


O^ 


& 


io8  T/ie  Elements  of  Sociology 

tion  is  the  chief  condition  determining  the  habits  of  life 
of  the  individuals  composing  a  population,  determining 
the  marriages  they  make,  and  therefore  the  sort  of  inheri- 
tance that  their  children  start  with  upon  the  life  struggle, 
and  determining  the  circumstances  of  each  individual  ca- 
reer. Together  these  influences,  in  the  long  run,  deter- 
mine for  each  individual  his  degree  of  vitality. 

The  Personality  Classes,  like  the  vitality  classes,  are  cre- 
ated by  those  varied  combinations  of  inheritance  and  of 
circumstance  that  are  determined  by  association. 

There  are  three  personality  classes;  namely,  first,  the 
geniuses  and  men  and  women  of  talent ;  second,  the  indi- 
viduals of  normal  intellectual  and  moral  power ;  and,  third, 
;  the  defective. 
^  1  The  Inventive.  —  The  first  class  is  relatively  small  in 
numbers.  Its  distinctive  characteristic  is  inventive  power. 
The  great  majority  of  human  beings  imitate  far  more  than 
they  invent;  but  here  and  there  appears  the  individual 
whose  whole  life  is  occupied  in  devising  new  combinations 
of  ideas  and  methods  that  prove  to  be  of  the  utmost  value 
to  his  fellow-men.  We  have  seen  that  invention  includes 
much  more  than  the  creation  of  new  mechanical  products, 
like  the  steam  engine,  or  the  spinning  frame,  or  the  elec- 
tric dynamo.  It  includes  every  new  and  useful  device  in 
business  methods,  in  social  organization,  in  law,  in  diplo- 
macy, in  military  strategy,  and  every  new  and  beautiful 
product  in  art,  music,  and  literature.  Consequently,  not 
only  all  mechanical  inventors,  but  all  business  men,  pro- 
fessional men,  and  statesmen  who  have  the  gift  of  origi- 
nality and  can  devise  new  and  better  ways  of  doing  those 
things  in  which  they  are  interested,  belong  to  this  person- 
ality class  of  the  men  of  genius  and  talent. 


The  Classes  of  Socii  109 

The  Imitative.  —  The  class  of  the  ijormally  endowed  ^ 
is  by  far  the  largest  of  the  personality  classes.  It  in- 
cludes all  those  men  and  women  who  are,  on  the  whole, 
imitative  rather  than  inventive,  but  who  are  by  no  means 
wholly  devoid  of  the  inventive  faculty.  The  important 
characteristic  of  this  class,  however,  is  mental  and  moral 
soundness.  While  its  members  are  in  no  way  remarkable, 
they  are  in  no  way  defective.  Their  judgment  is  good; 
they  have  no  foolish  delusions ;  they  understand  and  can 
appreciate  the  enormous  advantage  of  being  directed  or 
guided  in  the  practical  affairs  of  life  by  the  advice  of  the 
men  of  talent  and  genius ;  but  they  accept  this  advice  in 
an  independent,  self-respecting  way,  and  always  are  ca- 
pable of  making  up  their  own  minds  upon  any  question 
that  directly  concerns  themselves. 

The  Defective.  —  The  third  personality  class  includes  -' 
all  who  are  in  any  way  defective  in  mind  or  body.  Among 
them  are  not  only  the  insane,  the  imbecile,  and  suicidal, 
but  also  the  inebriate,  the  deaf  and  dumb,  the  blind  and 
crippled.  These  unfortunates  require  the  kindly  help  of 
the  other  two  personality  classes.  _, , 

The  Social  Classes.  —  The  vitality  and  personality  classes  ■  -^ ' 
are  created  by  the  reactions  of  society  upon  its  individual 
members  in  their  capacity  as  individuals.  Merely  as  indi- 
viduals they  become  more  or  less  vigorous,  more  or  less 
intellectual,  under  the  continuing  influence  of  association. 
The  social  classes  now  to  be  described  are  created  by  the 
reactions  of  society  upon  its  individual  members  in  their 
capacity  as  socii.  Association  develops  their  social  nature 
more  or  less.  It  more  or  less  fits  them  to  be  satisfactory 
and  useful  members  of  the  community.  Some  individuals 
it  moulds  into  a  perfect  adaptation  to  social  life ;  others  it 


no  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

modifies  in  a  less  degree.  Again,  as  we  have  seen,  sol:ial 
pressure  and  that  selective  process  of  acquaintanceship, 
whereby  each  socius  chooses  his  companions,  affect  differ- 
ent natures  in  quite  different  ways.  On  the  whole,  normally 
organized  individuals  react  upon  social  influences  in  a  per- 
fectly healthy  manner,  so  that  they  become  more  and  more 
social.  Many  defectives  react  morbidly,  until  they  become 
wholly  unfit  for  social  life,  and  even  antagonistic  to  it. 
Obviously,  these  different  reactions  produce  in  the  popula- 
tion not  only  differences  of  personality,  but  also  differences 
of  sociality  or  of  social  nature. 

The  social  classes  that  result  are  four  in  number; 
namely,  the  social,  the  non-social,  the  psuedo-social,  and 
the  anti-social. 
(^  \  The  Social  Class  is  composed  of  those  in  whom  the 
social  nature  is  highly  developed.  Their  distinguishing 
characteristic  is  a  consciousness  of  kind  that  is  wide  in 
its  scope  and  strong  in  its  intensity.  They  are  sympa- 
thetic, friendly,  helpful,  and  always  interested  in  endeav- 
ours to  perfect  social  relations,  to  develop  the  methods  of 
cooperation,  to  add  to  the  happiness  of  mankind  by  im- 
proving the  forms  of  social  pleasure,  to  preserve  and 
defend  the  great  social  institutions  of  the  family  and  the 
state.  To  this  class  the  entire  population  turns  for  help, 
inspiration,  and  leadership,  for  unselfish  loyalty,  and  wise 
enterprise.  It  includes  all  who  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word  are  philanthropic,  all  whose  self-sacrifice  is  directed 
by  sound  judgment,  all  true  reformers  whose  zeal  is 
tempered  by  common  sense  and  sober  patience,  and  ali 
those  who  give  expression  to  the  ideals  and  aspirations  of 
the  community  for  a  larger  and  better  life.  It  is  a  gifted 
and  originative  portion  of  this  class   that   constitutes   a 


The  Classes  of  Socii  in 

true  natural  aristocracy  among  men,  and  to  which  alone 
that  name  can  be  applied  when  artificial  political  distinc- 
tions have  been  abolished. 

The^No7i-s octal  Class  is  composed  of  those  in  whom  the  ^^■ 
social  nature  is  not  fully  developed.  Their  disposition  is 
to  cling  to  a  narrow  and  sometiiite^  selfish  individualism. 
They  are  by  no  means  destitute  of  sympathy,  of  compre- 
hension of  others,  or  of  the  desire  for  recognition ;  but 
their  consciousness  of  kind,  while  normal  and  sound  as  far 
as  it  goes,  is  not  wide  or  strong.  They  pride  themselves  ^ 
upon  their  independence  and  their  habit  of  minding  their 
own  business.  They  are  disinclined  to  accept  favours,  and 
not  much  inclined  to  give  them.  Their  preference  is  to  be 
let  alone.  This  is  the  primordial  social  class.  From  it 
the  other  three  social  classes  are  directly  or  indirectly 
derived.  The  non-social  class  contains  in  germ  all  social 
virtue,  all  anti-social  vice  and  crime.  It  is  simply  neutral, 
waiting  to  be  reached  and  impelled  upwards  or  downwards 
by  the  resistless  currents  of  social  life. 

The  PseiLdo-social  Class  is  composed  of  congenital  and  '- 
habitual  paupers.  Their  consciousness  of  kind  is  degen-  <^ 
erate.  They  simulate  the  qualities  of  the  social  and  pose 
as  victims  of  misfortune.  In  ««e^ity,  they  have  not  even 
the  virtues  of  the  non-social.  They  desire  only  to  live  as 
parasites.  Among  those  whom  the  law  classes  as  paupers, 
however,  there  are  always  some  true  victims  of  misfortune 
who,  therefore,  do  not  belong  to  the  pseudo-social  class. 

The  Anti-social  Class  is  composed  of  instinctive  and 
habitual  crimi^^|||^liv  whom  the  consciousness  of  kind  is 
approaching  extinctiett,  and  who  detest  society  and  all  its 
ways.  They  make  no  pretence  of  social  virtues  and  prefer 
to  live  by  open  aggression  upon  the  social.     They  do  not 


112  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

desire  the  cooperation  of  the  social  in  maintaining  their 
rights  or  interests,  and  prefer  to  avenge  personally  any 
real  or  fancied  wrongs  that  they  suffer.  Among  those  who 
are  by  law  classed  as  criminals,  there  are  many  who  have 
not  become  altogether  anti-social  and  who  could  be  saved 
from  the  anti-social  class. 

Criminal  and  Pauper  Aggregation.  — There  is  an  impor- 
tant relation  between  the  development  of  the  pauper  and 
the  criminal  classes  and  the  growth  of  wealth  in  the  com- 
munity which  must  be  carefully  studied  by  those  who  wish 
to  master  this  subject.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the 
original  aggregation  of  population  occurs  where  natural 
sources  of  food  supply  are  most  abundant  and  productive. 
Later  on,  aggregation  occurs  where  the  secondary  sources 
of  subsistence  are  found ;  that  is,  in  manufacturing  towns 
and  commercial  cities. 

Criminal  and  pauper  aggregation  occurs  where  this  arti- 
ficial food  supply,  this  secondary  source  of  subsistence,  is 
accumulated.  Great  cities  always  have  more  criminals  and 
paupers  in  proportion  to  their  total  population  than  the 
poorer  parts  of  the  commonwealth.  This  is  because,  in 
the  centres  of  wealth,  there  is  not  only  an  abundance 
of  food  and  clothing  upon  which  the  worthless  elements 
of  the  community  may  subsist,  but  also  a  large  number  of 
sympathetic  people  who  are  willing  to  give  to  all  who  ask, 
without  taking  the  trouble  to  inquire  whether  they  are 
deserving.  The  large  towns  and  great  cities  thus  become 
centres  of  attraction  to  criminals  and  paupers. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Using  the  "Compendium  of  the  Eleventh  Census,"  construct  tables 
showing  the  distribution  of  vitality,  personality,  and  social  classes  in 
the  United  States.     Read  Warner's  "  American  Charities." 


.CHAPTER  XI 

The  Preeminent  Social 

The  True  Elite.  —  Among  the  classes  into  which  a  popu- 
lation is  distributed  as  described  in  the  preceding  chapter, 
there  is  a  great  deal  of  overlapping.  This  is  not  true  of 
the  classes  belonging  together  in  each  order.  The  three 
vitality  classes  do  not  overlap.  A  man  who  belongs  to 
one  cannot  belong  to  either  of  the  other  two.  The  same 
is  true  of  the  personality  classes  and  of  the  social  classes. 
But  vitality  classes  do,  to  some  extent,  overlap  with  per- 
sonality classes  and  with  social  classes ;  and  social  classes 
overlap,  to  some  extent,  with  vitality  and  with  personality 
classes.  The  social  class,  for  example,  contains  individ- 
uals of  all  three  vitality  classes  and  of  all  three  personality 
classes.  _ 

Try  now  to  imagine  that  comparatively  small  part  of  a 
population  which  is  found  in  the  social  class  and,  at  the 
same  time,  in  that  highest  personality  class  which  is  com- 
posed of  the  men  and  women  who  are  endowed  with 
genius  or  talent,  and  is  found  also  in  the  first  and  second 
vitality  classes.  We  should  all  agree  that  this  group  of 
individuals  is  remarkable  and  of  enormous  value  to  the 
community.  Men  and  women  who  have  health,  originality, 
and  that  unselfish  love  of  mankind  which  moves  them  to 
devote  their  efforts  to  promoting  the  social  welfare,  cer- 
tainly deserve  to  be  recognized  as,  in  the  truest  sense  of 
the  word,  superior  to  their  fellow-beings. 
I  113 


114  '^^^  Elements  of  Sociology 

This  superior  section  of  the  social  class  is  the  most 
efficient  class  in  the  community.  Small  as  it  is  in  num- 
bers, it  accomplishes  the  greater  part  of  those  undertak- 
ings which,  in  their  totality,  we  call  progress.  It  gives  to 
society  the  new  inventions,  the  improvements  in  law,  in- 
dustry, art,  religion,  and  morals  which  make  life  richer  in 
its  achievements  and  larger  in  its  possibilities.  It  is  this 
class  alone  that  deserves  to  be  called  an  elite  or  an 
aristocracy. 

Of  such  importance,  this  superior  and  especially  effi- 
cient portion  of  the  social  class  should  receive  somewhat 
further  description  than  has  been  devoted  to  it  in  the 
preceding  chapter. 

The  Distinguished  Few.  —  It  would  be  interesting  if  we 
could  know  exactly  how  large  is  the  efficient  social  class 
in  any  given  population.  Unfortunately,  no  complete 
statistics  are  available,  though  it  would  be  by  no  means 
impossible  to  obtain  them  with  a  sufficient  expenditure  of 
time  and  money.  We  have,  however,  some  indications, 
and  they  show  that  the  efficient  social  class  is  every- 
where a  very  small  one  in  proportion  to  the  total  popu- 
lation. 

The  world  agrees  to  regard  as  distinguished  those  men 
and  women  who  are  of  such  intellectual  ability  and  of 
such  developed  sr  "ial  nature  that  they  succeed  in  making 
great  contributions  to  human  well-being.  But  the  number 
of  those  who,  by  general  consent,  are  distinguished,  is 
surprisingly  small.  An  Englishman  of  science.  Sir  Francis 
Galton,  who  investigated  this  subject  with  great  thorough- 
ness by  applying  careful  critical  tests,  found  that  in  the 
year  1868  there  were  in  the  British  Isles  1250  well-known 
men,  850  of  whom  were  over  fifty  years  of  age.     Of  the 


The  Preeminent  Social  Class  115 

latter,  500  could  be  called  eminent.  This*was  250  in  each 
million  of  that  part  of  the  population  which  was  over  fifty 
years  of  age,  and  this  number  Galton  regards  as  an  ample 
estimate  of  the  usual  proportion  of  distinguished  men  in 
Great  Britain.  \-.^^_^^^_^/^ 

Didot's  "  Nouvelle  Biographic  Generale  "  contains  about 
100,000  separate  articles,  corresponding  to  as  many  names 
deemed  worthy  of  biographical  immortality.  The  list  goes 
back  to  the  days  of  Pericles  of  Greece.  From  the  time  of 
Pericles  until  the  publication  of  the  "Biographic"  —  it 
appeared  1850-1870  —  about  45,000,000,000  of  men  had 
lived  on  this  planet.  Accordingly,  the  proportion  of  dis- 
tinguished men  for  the  entire  twenty-two  centuries  had 
been  one  in  450,000  of  the  world's  population.  This  num- 
ber, however,  as  given  in  the  Didot  collection,  includes 
many  kings  and  princes  who  would  never  have  been  dis- 
tinguished but  for  the  mere  accident  of  hereditary  posi- 
tion. It  is,  therefore,  probably  no  exaggeration  to  say 
that  nature  and  society  produce  about  one  genuinely 
distinguished  man  or  woman  for  every  half  a  million  who 
live  and  die  in  obscurity. 

In  these  startling  figures  there  is  a  practical  lesson  of 
the  greatest  importance.  In  nothing  whatever  can  a 
nation  so  ill  afford  to  be  wasteful  as  in  her  men  and 
women  who  combine  genius  with  the- 'highly  developed 
social  nature.  What,  then,  shall  we  say  of  those  govern- 
ments that  in  times  past  have  deliberately  destroyed  such 
elements  of  the  population  by  death,  imprisonment,  and 
other  forms  of  persecution,  on  account  of  differences  in 
religious  or  political  belief.  No  nation  in  the  world  has 
thus  squandered  its  most  precious  riches  as  recklessly  and 
ruthlessly  as  Spain,  whose  long-continued  Inquisition  re- 


Ii6  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

duced  her  to  an  intellectual  poverty  and  moral  degradation 
unparalleled  in  human  history. 

That  the  efficient  social  class  should  be  thus  small  in 
numbers  is  not  remarkable  when  one  stops  to  consider 
how  much  is  necessary  in  the  way  of  preliminary  condi- 
tions to  its  existence. 

Not  only  must  the  individuals  who  belong  to  this  class 
have  a  high  degree  of  intellectual  power,  which  culminates 
in  inventive  originality,  but  they  must  also  have  a  rela- 
tively enormous  amount  of  knowledge;  for,  the  reader 
must  remember,  we  are  including  in  this  preeminent  social 
class  only  those  whose  abilities  are  of  the  socially  and 
morally  useful  sort.  The  man  whose  genius  benefits  no 
one  but  himself  has  no  place  in  this  list.  But  that  a  man 
may  do  great  things  for  his  fellow-beings,  he  must  under- 
stand their  wants,  their  joys  and  sorrows,  their  minds,  their 
moral  natures.  He  must  understand  them,  not  only  in 
individual  cases,  but  in  so  many  cases  that  his  knowledge, 
like  Shakespeare's  comprehension  of  human  nature,  is 
universal  in  its  qualities.  He  must  know  the  peculiarities 
of  races  and  nationalities,  and  the  conditions  under  which 
each  has  been  developed.  Moreover,  he  must  know  his- 
tory at  least  to  the  extent  of  being  familiar  with  all  that 
has  been  accomplished  in  his  own  particular  field  of 
creative  ability.  The  inventor  who  spends  his  time  in 
reinventing  the  devices  that  have  long  since  found  their 
way  into  use  may,  indeed,  have  the  spark  of  genius;  but, 
so  far  as  his  life  is  concerned,  it  has  been  enkindled  to  no 
purpose. 

Services  of  the  Preeminent.  —  What,  in  some  further  de- 
tail, are  the  services  that  the  preeminent  social  class 
renders  to  the  community  t     Let  us  briefly  recount  them. 


The  Preeminent  Social  Class  117 

The  preeminent  social  class  sets  most*  of  the  examples 
and  standards  for  mankind.  As  a  general  thing,  human 
beings  do  not  imitate  those  whom  they  regard  as  inferior 
to  themselves.  They  rather  look  up  to  those  who,  to  their 
minds,  are  superior  in  intellect,  moral  character,  and  ex- 
ecutive ability.  Consequently,  it  is  the  preeminent  social 
class  that  makes  most  of  the  unwritten  rules  of  conduct, 
manners,  and  fashion.  There  are  noteworthy  exceptions. 
It  sometimes  happens  that  a  thoroughly  bad  man  or 
woman,  or  a  mere  freak  or  crank,  starts  a  manner  or  a 
fashion  that  for  a  time  is  in  great  vogue.  But  in  the  long 
run  the  unwritten  laws  of  society  are  made  by  the  intellect- 
ual, the  moral,  and  the  social  elements  of  the  population. 

The  preeminent  social  class  does  most  of  the  original 
thinking  for  society.  Science  and  philosophy,  political 
economy  and  statesmanship,  have  thousands  of  devotees 
who  are  in  no  way  distinguished;  and  now  and  then  an 
important  truth  is  discovered  or  set  forth  in  clearer  light 
by  some  humble  student  whose  intellectual  grasp  is  not 
remarkable.  But,  if  we  take  into  consideration  the  entire 
history  of  the  intellectual  life  of  the  human  race,  we 
clearly  see  that  most  great  truths  have  been  discovered 
by  great  men,  and  that  their  application  to  human  well- 
being,  in  every  sphere  of  practical  activity,  has  been  made 
by  men  of  only  a  lesser  degree  of  intellectual  power.  The 
preeminent  social  class  does  most  of  the  leading,  directing, 
and  organizing  in  human  society.  The  average  man  has 
little  or  no  power  to  combine  the  efforts  of  scores  or  hun- 
dreds of  other  men  so  that  they  shall  work  together  with 
the  utmost  efficiency  and  success.  The  gift  of  ability  to 
organize  and  to  direct  is  really  a  very  rare  one ;  and  per- 
haps there  are  actually  fewer  individuals  in  the  world  who 


Ii8  The  Elenie7tts  of  Sociology 

have  this  gift  in  a  supreme  degree  than  there  are  of  those 
who  can  combine  the  forms  of  matter  in  new  mechanical 
inventions.  It  is  harder  to  put  humanity  together  in  new 
combinations  that  have  the  qualities  of  a  smoothly  run- 
ning machine,  than  to  put  pieces  of  matter  together  in 
machines  of  a  simpler  kind. 

Finally,  the  preeminent  social  class  contributes  most  of 
the  higher  forms  of  beauty  and  the  higher  forms  of  happi- 
ness to  mankind.  It  is  to  this  class,  as  has  already  been 
said,  that  we  owe  poetry,  art,  and  music.  It  is  to  this 
class  also  that  we  owe  those  refinements  of  courtesy  and 
those  gracious  forms  of  social  intercourse  that  make 
smooth  the  rough  places  of  life,  and  add  to  the  spon- 
taneous social  pleasures,  to  which  all  can  contribute,  those 
touches  of  grace  and  beauty  that  appeal  to  our  higher 
natures,  and  enable  us  to  avoid  the  infliction  of  annoy- 
ances that  spring  from  awkwardness,  inconsiderateness, 
and  the  inability  to  put  one's  self  in  another's  place. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

From  the  "  Politics  "  prepare  an  analysis  of  Aristotle's  conception 
of  aristocracy.  Read  Galton's  "  Hereditary  Genius,"  Chapters  I  and 
II,  and  William  James's  essay,  "The  Will  to  Believe":  "Great  Men 
and  their  Environment." 


CHAPTER  XII 
The  Social  Mind  :  Modes  of  Like-mindedness 

Nature  of  the  Social  Mind.  —  Among  the  phrases  most 
commonly  met  with  in  discussions  of  social  interests  are 
the  terms  "the  moral  sense  of  the  community,"  "public 
opinion,"  and  "the  public  will."  Such  terms  seem  to 
imply  the  existence  of  a  mind  or  consciousness  in  society 
which  is  to  be  distinguished  from  the  mind  of  an  indi- 
vidual. Is  there  in  reality  any  such  social  mind,  or  are 
these  terms  mere  figures  of  speech.?  Is  society  a  great 
being,  larger,  more  powerful,  and  more  intelligent  than 
any  of  its  individual  members,  or  do  we  merely  personify 
it  in  a  rhetorical  sense,  as  we  personify  the  sun  when  we 
apply  to  it  the  pronoun  "  he,"  or  the  ship  when  we  speak 
of  it  as  "  she  "  ?  , 

There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  society  is  a  great 
being  which  is  conscious  of  itself  through  some  mysterious 
process  of  thinking,  separate  and  distinct  from  the  thinking 
that  goes  on  in  the  brains  of  individual  men.  At  any  rate, 
there  is  no  possible  way  yet  known  to  man  of  proving  that  • 
there  is  any  such  supreme  social  consciousness. 

Nevertheless,  there  is  a  group  of  facts  of  great  interest 
to  the  sociologist  and  to  the  man  of  affairs  for  which  the 
name  "the  social  mind"  can,  with  entire  propriety  and 
with  great  convenience,  be  used.  In  preceding  chapters 
we  have  shown  that  the  most  essential  fact  in  society  is 

119 


120  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

like-mindedness,  meaning  by  this  term  a  close  resemblance 
between  the  ideas,  emotions,  and  preferences  of  any  given 
individual  and  those  of  other  individuals  who  live  in  the 
same  social  group  with  him.  It  has  been  shown  also  that 
such  like-minded  individuals  usually  discover  their  mental 
and  moral  resemblances,  think  about  them,  take  pleasure 
in  them,  and  turn  them  to  good  account  in  many  useful 
ways. 

When,  then,  two  or  more  individuals  at  the  same  mo- 
ment are  receiving  like  sensations,  perceiving  the  same 
relations,  experiencing  the  same  kind  of  emotion,  thinking 
the  same  thoughts,  arriving  in  their  judgments  at  the  same 
conclusion,  —  a  state  of  facts  exists  in  the  population  which 
evidently  must  be  classed  among  facts  of  mind,  and  yet 
must  be  distinguished  from  the  mental  activity  of  an  in- 
dividual who,  absolutely  alone,  completely  cut  off  from 
communication  with  his  fellow-men,  thinks  solely  about 
himself  and  his  immediate  material  surroundings.  In  the 
one  case  there  exists  a  concert  of  the  emotions  and  thoughts 
of  two  or  more  individuals ;  in  the  other  case,  the  thought 
of  the  individual  is  peculiar  to  himself  and  his  isolated 
condition. 

To  the  group  of  facts  that  may  be  described  as  the 
simultaneous  like-mental-activity  of  two  or  more  individu- 
als in  communication  with  one  another,  or  as  a  concert  of 
the  emotion,  thought,  and  will  of  two  or  more  communi- 
cating individuals,  we  give  the  name,  the  social  mind. 
This  name,  accordingly,  should  be  regarded  as  meaning 
just  this  group  of  facts  and  nothing  more.  It  does  not 
mean  that  there  is  any  other  consciousness  than  that  of 
individual  minds.  It  does  mean  that  individual  minds  act 
simultaneously  in  like  ways  and  continually  influence  one 


The  Social  Mind:   Modes  of  Like-mindedness     121 

another;  and  that  certain  mental  producte  result  from  such 
combined  mental  action  which  could  not  result  from  the 
thinking  of  an  individual  who  had  no  communication  with 
fellow-beings. 

Formation  of  the  Social  Mind. —  The  social  mind,  or  the 
simultaneous  like-action  of  the  minds  of  like  socii,  may- 
be observed  in  simple  forms,  in  forms  that  are  somewhat 
complex,  and  yet  again  in  forms  that  are  complex  in  a  high 
degree.  To  make  the  explanation  of  these  various  forms 
as  clear  as  possible,  we  will  use  the  word  "integration," 
to  denote  the  combination  of  the  mental  activity  of  two  or 
more  individuals  in  one  common  mental  activity,  or  in  pro- 
ducing a  common  product  of  their  combined  thought.  We 
shall  then  speak  of  the  integration  of  the  mental  activity 
of  two  or  more  individuals  as  of  different  degrees  and 
stages. 

In  its  Simplest  Form^  the  social  mind  is  nothing  more 
or  less  than  that  simultaneous  like-responsiveness  of  like 
minds  to  the  same  stimulus  which  was  described  in  Chapter 
V.  When  two  or  more  individuals  receive  similar  sensa- 
tions, or  perceive  the  same  object  or  event  and  react  upon 
it  in  like  ways,  there  is  an  agreement  or  concert  of  their 
mental  processes  than  which  no  simpler  mode  of  the  social 
mind  is  known.  This  is  the  first  stage  of  the  integration 
of  the  mental  processes  of  many  individuals. 

Relatively  simple  as  it  is,  however,  it  is  often  an  im- 
portant, or  indeed  a  very  terrible,  thing  for  the  community. 
Perhaps  the  most  familiar  example  that  can  be  called  to 
mind  is  the  spontaneous  applause  of  an  audience  when  a 
speaker  unexpectedly  touches  the  emotions  of  his  hearers. 
The  most  familiar  example  of  the  terrible  form  which  this 
integration  of  feeling  and  belief  may  assume  is  a  panic  in 


\/ 


122  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

which  all  individuals,  sharing  the  same  terror,  in  the  same 
manner  lose  their  senses  and  act  with  the  same  madness, 
i/  The  Reciprocal  Consciousness  of  Kind.  —  A  second  stage 
in  the  integration  of  the  like  feelings  and  beliefs  of  different 
individuals  appears  with  the  emergence  of  a  reciprocal  con- 
sciousness of  kind.  By  a  reciprocal  consciousness  of  kind 
is  meant  a  consciousness  of  kind  that  exists  at  the  same  mo- 
ment in  each  of  the  resembling  individuals*  Obviously,  it 
may  happen  that  one  of  two  or  more  resembling  individuals 
becomes  aware  of  the  resemblance  before  any  other  person 
does.  Such  a  consciousness  of  kind,  limited  to  the  thought 
of  a  single  individual,  is  not  a  mode  of  the  social  mind.  But 
when  each  of  the  resembling  individuals  becomes  aware  of 
the  resemblance,  the  consciousness  of  kind  is  reciprocal ; 
and  this  is  such  an  agreement  or  concert  of  the  ideas  and 
feelings  of  two  or  more  individuals  as  can  properly  be 
called  a  mode  of  the  social  mind. 

And  this  mode  is  obviously  a  more  complicated  one  than 
the  mere  simultaneous  like-responsiveness  to  the  same 
stimulus,  because,  in  combination  with  such  responsiveness, 
it  includes  a  large  number  of  other  elements  of  perception, 
thought,  and  emotion. 

Emblem  and  Shibboleth.  —  A  third  stage  of  the  integra- 
tion of  the  like  feelings  and  beliefs  of  different  individuals 
is  produced  by  a  combination  of  the  simultaneous  like-re- 
sponsiveness to  the  same  stimulus,  and  of  the  reciprocal 
consciousness  of  kind,  with  a  fixing  of  the  attention  of  each 
individual  upon  some  object,  word,  phrase,  or  cry.  Such 
an  object  or  word  must,  however,  be  a  symbol  or  sign, 
calling  to  mind  a  group  of  facts  in  which  the  mind  is  in- 
terested. The  national  flag,  for  example,  is  a  symbol 
that  calls  to  mind  all  the  ideas  and  emotions  of  patriot- 


The  Social  Mind :   Modes  of  Like-minded^iess     123 

ism.  When,  at  the  same  moment,  the  attention  of  many 
individuals  is  arrested  by  this  symbol,  as  it  is  when  the  flag 
is  unfurled  on  some  noteworthy  occasion,  it  not  only  serves 
as  a  stimulus  to  which  the  ideas,  emotions,  and  conduct  of 
the  men  who  behold  it  respond  in  like  ways,  and  as  a 
means  of  awakening  their  consciousness  of  kind  as  they 
think  of  their  common  country,  their  common  history,  and 
their  common  hopes  for  the  future,  but  it  also  starts  yet 
other  modes  of  mental  activity  which  greatly  complicate 
those  already  mentioned. 

The  process  is  this :  the  reciprocal  consciousness  of 
kind,  acting  upon  common  possessions,  interests,  and  ideas, 
converts  their  images,  symbols,  and  names  into  social  em- 
blems and  shibboleths.  Examples  of  emblems  and  shib- 
boleths are  armorial  bearings,  the  flags  and  banners  of 
states,  and  such  words  or  phrases  as  "family,"  "home," 
"class,"  "altars,"  "the  gods,"  "the  fathers,"  "country," 
"native  land,"  "the  king,"  "the  army,"  "  the  party,"  "our 
cause,"  "the  right,"  "liberty,"  and  "fraternity."  Every- 
body knows  how  any  one  of  these  words  may,  in  a  moment 
of  general  excitement,  arouse  a  crowd  to  furious  enthu- 
siasm and  even  to  frenzy.  What  is  the  mysterious  power 
of  a  mere  phrase,  or  of  a  mere  piece  of  tinsel  or  coloured 
silk,  thus  to  awaken  the  passions  of  thousands  of  human 
beings } 

Such  objects  and  names  are  not  converted  into  emblems 
and  shibboleths,  and  do  not  acquire  their  power  over  the 
human  mind,  merely  by  meaning  the  same  things  to  many 
individuals,  or  even  by  being  thought  of  by  many  individu- 
als at  the  same  moment.  They  become  emblems  and  shib- 
boleths only  when  each  individual  is  conscious  that,  at  a 
given  moment,  they  mean  to  his  associates  what  they  mean 


124  1*^^  Elements  of  Sociology 

to  him,  and  arouse  in  them  the  same  emotions  that  they 
arouse  in  him.  They  are  emblems  and  shibboleths  only 
when  they  are  products  of  a  reciprocal  consciousness  of 
kind. 

■^  As  such  products,  however,  they  powerfully  react  upon 
the  consciousness  of  kind  itself.  The  emblem  or  shibbo- 
leth not  only  calls  the  attention  of  an  individual  who  sees 
or  hears  it  to  the  object  or  fact  that  it  symbolizes,  and 
awakens  in  him  certain  feelings ;  it  also  fixes  his  attention 
upon  the  feelings  that  it  arouses,  and  the  conduct  that 
it  incites  in  others.  The  emotions  and  conduct  of  others, 
of  which  he  is  thus  made  aware,  at  once  begin  to  act  upon 
himself  as  an  influence  that  merges  with  the  original 
effect  of  the  emblem  or  shibboleth.  It  intensifies  or  dimin- 
ishes the  initial  power  of  the  symbol  over  his  mind,  and 
quickens  or  restrains  his  responsive  action. 

The  Social  Memory.  —  A  fourth  stage  in  the  integration 
of  the  like  feelings  and  beliefs  of  different  individuals  is 
produced  by  a  combination  of  the  three  stages  already 
described  with  memories  and  records  of  the  past.  The 
whole  existing  mass  of  knowledge  in  civilized  communities 
is  such  a  mode  of  the  social  mind.  So  great  over  us  is  the 
power  of  symbolism  that,  doubtless,  many  of  us  think  of 
knowledge  as  contained  in  books.  Actually,  nothing  is 
contained  in  books  but  the  symbols  of  knowledge.  The 
knowledge  itself  exists  only  in  human  minds.  The  sym- 
bols merely  enable  us  to  discover  what  has  been  in  minds 
other  than  our  own. 

Public  Opinion.  —  The  highest  forms  of  the  social  mind 
are  those  which  are  produced  by  the  combination  of  the 
rational  thinking  of  one  mind  with  that  of  another.  Where 
not  only  traditional  beliefs  and  active  sympathies,  but  also 


The  Social  Mind :   Modes  of  Like-mindedness     125 

critical  discrimination  and  philosophical  judgments  are 
brought  together  in  a  common  product,  the  result  is  the 
highest  creation  of  the  human  mind.  No  one  individual, 
by  his  unaided  thinking,  could  establish,  in  all  its  details, 
the  complete  scientific  explanation  of  any  process  in  nat- 
ure, or  work  out  a  complete  scheme  of  public  policy  for 
the  state.  These  things  are  achieved  only  through  the 
cooperation  of  many  minds. 

When  critical,  rational  thought  is  combined  with  the  im- 
pressions and  beliefs  of  the  multitude,  we  call  the  product 
public  opinion. 

Modes  of  the  Social  Mind.  —  These  various  stages  of  the 
integration  of  the  social  mind  fall  naturally  into  three  large 
groups,  which  will  be  made  the  subject  of  further  explana- 
tion in  the  three  following  chapters. 

The  simultaneous  responsiveness  to  like  stimuli,  the  re- 
ciprocal consciousness  of  kind,  and  the  integration  of  emo- 
tion and  belief  by  means  of  symbols,  together  make  up  a 
like-mii^dedness  that  may  be  called,  from  its  predominant 
element,  sympathetic  like-mindedness.  Sympathetic  like-' 
mindedness,  if  uncontrolled  by  the  reflective  processes, 
commonly  results  in  impulsive  social  action.  The  next 
chapter,  therefore,  will  deal  with  sympathetic  like-minded- 
ness and  with  some  of  the  facts  and  laws  of  impulsive 
social  action. 

The  effect  of  memory  and  habit  is  to  create  a  like- 
mindedness  that  is  formal  and  conventional.  When  men 
are  subjected  to  the  influence  of  the  same  belief?,  and  con- 
form, year  after  year  and  generation  after  generation,  to 
an  inherited  usage,  custom,  or  discipline,  they  acquire  a 
rigid,  formal,  or  conventional  likeness  of  mind  and  char- 
acter.    This  mode  of  the  social  rn^nd  may,  therefore,  be 


126  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

called  formal  like-mindedness ;  and  one  of  the  subjects 
treated  under  this  head  is  the  body  of  traditions  that 
contain  the  great  mass  of  human  belief  and  precept 

The  agreement  of  thought  that  is  produced  by  rational 
reflection,  and  through  the  processes  of  discussion  and  the 
creation  of  public  opinion,  and  all  those  public  decisions 
that  result  from  reflection  and  discussion,  may  together 
yy  be  called  rational  like-mindedness.  Rational  like-minded- 
ness is  the  highest  mode  of  the  social  mind.  The  supreme 
manifestation  of  rational  like-mindedness  is  in  an  ethical 
consciousness  of  society  which  combines  critical  moral 
judgments  with  sympathetic  emotions  in  a  persistent  eth- 
ical purpose.  We  shall  have  more  to  say  on  this  subject 
in  the  chapter  on  Democracy. 

Social  Force  and  Control.  —  In  each  of  these  modes,  the 
social  mind,  like  the  individual  mind,  must  be  regarded  by 
the  scientific  investigator  from  two  points  of  view.  Merely 
as  facts  of  consciousness,  sensation,  emotion,  and  thought, 
whether  existing  at  a  given  moment  in  one  iijdividual 
mind  or  in  many  minds,  cannot  be  thought  of  or  argued 
about  in  terms  of  our  physical  conceptions  of  energy  or 
force.  Associated  with  these  facts  of  consciousness,  how- 
ever, are,  as  we  know,  facts  of  nervous  activity  and  mus- 
cular movement.  Therefore,  it  is  legitimate  to  speak  of 
mental  energy  or  of  the  force  of  an  individual  mind,  mean- 
ing thereby  the  transformations  of  energy  and  the  physi- 
cal changes  in  the  external  world  that  are  brought  about 
through  those  activities  of  the  nervous  mechanism  that 
are  associated  with  sensations,  emotions,  and  thoughts. 

In  this  sense  the  mind  is  a  force ;  and  the  social  mind, 
in  all  its  phases  or  modes,  is  a  social  force,  by  which  is 
meant  a  force  that  originates  in  society  or  in  social  con- 


The  Social  Mind :   Modes  of  Like-rnindedness     127 

ditions  and  reacts  upon  society  or  upon  its  individual 
members. 

In  any  stage  of  its  development,  the  social  mind,  whether 
it  be  merely  the  simultaneous  like-responsiveness  of  two 
or  more  individuals  to  the  same  stimulus,  whether  it  be  a 
reciprocal  consciousness  of  kind,  or  a  rational  public  opin- 
ion, if  it  is  more  than  mere  reflection  and  discharges  itself 
in  action,  is  a  power  superior  to  any  individual  force.  The 
social  mind  in  its  active  or  energetic  manifestation  is  often 
spoken  of  as  the  social  or  public  will. 

The  active  manifestation  of  the  social  mind  may  or  may 
not  be  consciously  intended.  On  the  one  hand,  individuals 
may,  without  any  plan  or  intent  in  the  matter,  simultane- 
ously act  in  the  same  ways,  and  such  action  may  be  a  com- 
pelling social  force  of  tremendous  power.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  display  of  energy  may  be  deliberately  planned 
or  intended.  In  other  words,  a  social  force  may  be  an 
intended  social  force. 

An  intended  social  force  is  always  a  reciprocal  con- 
sciousness of  kind.  An  intent  or  purpose,  simultaneously 
held  by  two  or  more  individuals,  is  a  mode  of  resemblance. 
A  purpose  that  many  individuals  simultaneously  form  be- 
comes a  common  purpose  when  each  individual  becomes 
aware  of  its  existence  in  all  of  his  associates,  and  not 
otherwise.  This  discovery  by  each  is  obviously  a  recip- 
rocal consciousness  of  kind. 

In  the  three  following  chapters,  the  social  mind  will  be 
observed  from  both  points  of  view.  It  will  be  described 
as  a  state  of  consciousness  and  also  as  a  form  of  energy 
—  a  social  force  or  control. 

Having  regard  to  these  two  aspects  of  the  social  mind, 
the  aspect  of  consciousness  and  the  aspect  of  activity,  we 


128  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

may  now  conclude  this  chapter  with  a  definition,  as  fol- 
lows : 

The  social  mind  is  that  sympathy  and  concurrent  intelli- 
y/     gence  of  the  like-minded  which  results  in  common  purposes 
;    and  concerted  acts,  . 

PARALLEL  STUDY. 

Read  Lewes's  "  Problems  of  Life  and  Mind  "  :  "  The  Study  of  Psy- 
chology," Chapter  IX  ;  or  Vincent,  "  The  Social  Mind  and  Education," 
Chapter  I ;  or  Novicow,  "  Conscience  et  Volontd  Sociale." 


CHAPTER   XIII 

Sympathetic   Like-mindedness  and  Impulsive  Social 

Action 

Origins  of  Impulsive  Action.  —  We  have  seen  that  the 
simplest  combination  of  the  feelings  and  ideas  of  a  num- 
ber of  individuals  is  that  which  occurs  sympathetically 
and  imitatively  without  the  intervention  of  any  process 
of  critical  thinking.  The  panic  of  a  terrified  crowd  was  , 
mentioned  as  one  of  the  lamentable  forms  that  sympa- 
thetic mental  activity  may  assume. 

That  the  like-mindedness  which  is  purely  sympathetic, 
imitative,  or  emotional  should  be  impulsive  and  hasty  in 
action,  is  inevitable.  The  student  will  understand  the 
subject  clearly  if  he  is  acquainted  with  the  simpler  pro- 
cesses of  nerve  and  brain  reaction.  A  sensation,  for  ex- 
ample, that  of  a  prick  at  the  tip  of  the  finger,  is  carried  to 
the  spinal  cord  by  afferent  nerves.  From  the  spinal  cord 
comes  back  along  efferent  nerves  a  reflex  which  contracts 
the  muscles  of  arm  and  hand  in  a  hasty  motion  to  with- 
draw from  the  object  that  inflicted  pain.  This  action  takes 
place  without  any  thought  process  or  critical  reasoning. 
At  least,  such  is  usually  the  fact.  However,  it  may  hap- 
pen that  with  the  sensation  of  pain  there  is  also  in  the 
mind  a  perception  of  some  dangerous  object  that  would  be 
encountered  if  the  hand  were  suddenly  thrown  back.  In 
K  129 


130  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

this  case,  the  mind  perhaps  is  able  for  an  instant  to  con- 
trol the  impulse  to  snatch  away  the  hand,  and  to  direct  it 
in  a  careful  movement  which  results  both  in  withdrawing 
from  the  object  that  has  caused  the  hurt  and,  at  the  same 
time,  in  avoiding  one  that  might  inflict  yet  greater  injury 
if  the  hand  were  suddenly  thrown  against  it. 

The  action  last  described  is  complicated  because  a  part 
of  the  nervous  current  that  passes  through  the  afferent 
nerves  towards  the  spinal  cord  is  switched  off  into  the 
thought  centres  of  the  brain  ;  and  the  efferent  nerves, 
therefore,  do  not  instantly  bring  back  the  impulse  to 
snatch  the  hand  away.  Instead,  there  is  an  instant  of 
hesitation  while  deliberation  is  going  on  in  the  brain ;  and 
not  until  that  process  is  completed  does  the  hand  receive 
its  command  to  act. 

From  this  elementary  account  of  our  nervous  reactions 
—  an  account  so  brief  that  it  is  by  no  means  a  complete 
statement  of  the  matter  —  we  may  derive  an  important 
suggestion  to  take  with  us  into  our  consideration  of  the 
social  mind  and  social  activity.  All  true  thinking,  all 
careful  looking  ov:'  the  ground  to  be  sure  that  we  know 
what  we  are  about  before  we  act,  involves  a  certain  re- 
straint upon  our  mechanical  tendency  to  respond  instantly 
to  stimulus.  It  involves  the  thoughtful  delay  that  is 
implied  in  our  word  "deliberation." 

Another  thing,  too,  is  implied.  All  action  that  takes 
into  account  the  various  possibilities  of  a  situation  is  nec- 
essarily deliberate.  A  good  chess  player  does  not  move 
his  piece  until  he  has  thought  out  all  the  possible  moves 
that  he  can  make,  and  has  decided  which  one  is,  all  things 
considered,  the  best.  A  poor  player  sees,  at  the  most, 
only  two  or  three  of  the  possible  moves ;  and  seeing  so 


Sympathy  and  hnpiilsive  Social  Action  131 

little  to  think  about,  he  moves  much  sooner  than  a  superior 
antagonist. 

These  conditions  are  not  changed  when  men  act  to- 
gether in  large  numbers.  On  the  contrary,  if  they  have 
natures  that  are  sensitive  to  every  impression  that  is  made 
upon  their  senses,  if  they  are  sympathetic  and  quick  to 
imitate,  if  they  have  but  little  power  of  patient  deliber- 
ation—  they  are  quick  to  act,  and  their  action  is  impul- 
sive, emotional,  lacking  in  coolness  of  judgment,  and 
perhaps  disastrous  to  themselves  and  others. 

Especially  is  this  true  if  they  are  by  nature  or  circum- 
stance subject  to  what  psychologists  call  suggestion.  A 
person  is  subject  to  suggestion  if  he  responds  uncon- 
sciously to  an  idea,  as  we  all  respond  automatically  in  re- 
flex action  to  a  sensation.  The  normal  tendency  of  an 
idea,  as  of  a  sensation,  is  towards  motor  discharge.  To  see 
the  name  of  an  appetizing  dish  is  to  have  an  impulse  to 
order  it.  To  think  of  picking  up  a  novel  from  the  table  is 
to  have  an  impulse  to  reach  forth  the  hand  for  the  book. 

An  idea,  then,  is  not  only  a  state  of  consciousness,  it  is 
also  a  hint  to  do  something  —  it  is^a^.  suggestion.  The 
tendency  to  act  is  held  in  check  only  by  counteracting 
ideas.  If  no  counteracting  ideas  come  into  the  mind,  or 
if,  when  they  come,  they  receive  no  attention,  the  idea  al- 
ready there  has  everything  its  own  way.  The  suggestion 
is  unconsciously  followed.  Complete  inability  to  resist 
suggestion  is,  however,  an  abnormal  state  of  the  brain. 
It  is  known  as  the  hypnotic  trance.  The  critical  faculty 
of  the  hypnotized  patient  is  absolutely  suspended  ;  and  he 
converts  suggestions  into  acts  with  the  unhesitating  pre- 
cision of  a  machine. 

To  give  attention  to  counteracting  ideas  is  to  stop  and 


132  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

think,  it  is  to  deliberate,  it  is  to  become  critical.  Conse- 
quently, critical  minds  are  not  easily  carried  away  by  sug- 
gestion. 

They  may  be,  however,  if  the  suggestion  is  so  unobtru- 
sive as  not  to  awaken  suspicion  or  opposition.  For  ex- 
ample, if  a  sharpened  lead  pencil  is  quietly  placed  on  the 
desk  near  a  person  who  is  earnestly  talking,  the  chances 
are  that,  without  the  slightest  deliberation,  he  will  pick 
up  the  pencil  and  begin  marking,  or  drawing,  or  perhaps 
writing  fragmentary  memoranda,  on  the  pad  of  paper  be- 
fore him. 

In  an  even  more  subtle  way  are  thoughts  and  courses  of 
action  often  suggested  to  men  in  crowds.  A  skilful  pub- 
lic speaker  can  work  a  crowd  to  a  great  pitch  of  excite- 
ment by  artfully  insinuating  the  truth  of  that  which  he 
wishes  them  to  believe,  or  the  wisdom  of  that  which  he 
wishes  them  to  do,  while  apparently  directing  his  argument 
upon  some  quite  different  question. 

Extent  of  Impulsive  Action.  —  A  large  part  of  all  the 
social  action  in  which  many  individuals  take  a  concerted 
part  is  impulsive  rather  than  deliberate  ;  and  therefore 
many  of  the  dramatic  events  of  history  have  been  impulsive 
social  actions. 

If  the  student  will  take  pains  to  recall  some  of  the  most 
interesting  political,  judicial,  and  industrial  events  that 
have  occurred  during  his  lifetime,  he  will  probably  be 
surprised  to  discover  how  often  great  numbers  of  men, 
carried  away  ty  the  excitement  and  enthusiasm  of  the 
moment,  have  engaged  in  proceedings  that  their  reason 
might  or  might  not  afterwards  approve,  but  in  which  it 
certainly  played  very  little  part  at  the  moment.  Some- 
times these  events  are  violent  in   character,  taking  the 


Sympathy  and  Impulsive  Social  Action  133 

form  of  riots,  lynchings,  and  turbulent  ccftiduct  in  connec- 
tion with  strikes  or  lockouts.  Sometimes  they  are  entirely 
peaceful  and  lawful,  but  none  the  less  hasty  and  incon- 
siderate—  as  when  a  legislative  body,  moved  by  a  wave 
of  popular  feeling,  enacts  a  law  without  deliberation, 
simply  assuming  that  the  popular  belief  or  demand  is  to  be 
accepted  at  its  face  value  without  opposition  or  criticism. 
Sometimes  an  entire  nation  is  thus  wrought  up  to  impul- 
sive action  which  carries  it  onward  to  frightful  disaster. 
One  of  the  most  noteworthy  examples  in  all  history  was 
that  of  the  flaming  forth  of  war  passion  in  France  in  1870, 
when,  accepting  beliefs  that  had  no  foundation  in  fact,  and 
feeling  a  confidence  in  itself  which  events  proved  to  have 
been  entirely  without  justification,  the  French  army 
plunged  into  a  struggle  that  speedily  ended  in  the  over- 
throw of  the  Napoleonic  Empire. 

Conditions  of  Impulsive  Action.  —  The  rapid  development 
of  sympathetic  like-mindedness  and  resulting  impulsive 
social  action  is  by  no  means  an  accidental  thing.  Like 
everything  else  in  nature  and  life,  it  depends  upon  the 
combination  of  factors  that  can  be  analyzed  and  described  ; 
and  it  conforms  to  laws  that,  when  we  have  learned  more 
about  them,  we  shall  probably  find  are  quite  as  absolute  as 
are  those  laws  of  physical  phenomena  that  are  studied  by 
the  chemist  and  the  physiologist. 

Physical  Cofiditions  of  geography  and  climate  exert  an 
important  effect  in  predisposing  social  populations  to  emo- 
tional and  impulsive  action,  or  in  restraining  them  from 
it.  It  has  long  been  observed  that  the  southern  peoples 
of  the  Northern  Hemisphere  are  more  excitable  and  im- 
pulsive in  both  individual  and  social  activity  than  are  the 
people  of  colder  northern  climes.     To  what  extent  this  is 


134  T^^^^  Elements  of  Sociology 

due  to  temperature  merely,  we  do  not  yet  know.  It  is, 
however,  certain  that  excessive  temperature  is  a  real  factor 
in  emotional  conduct.  This  is  proven  in  very  many  ways, 
among  others  by  the  increasing  number  of  crimes  of 
violence  with  the  transition  from  early  spring  to  summer 
in  countries  like  the  United  States,  England,  France,  and 
Germany ;  by  the  increase,  at  the  same  period  of  the  year, 
of  nervous  disorders  ;  and  by  the  greater  difficulty  that 
the  managers  of  prisons,  jails,  insane  asylums,  and  other 
places  where  people  are  restrained  of  liberty,  have  in 
maintaining  the  usual  routine  of  discipline  whenever  a 
sudden  rise  of  temperature  occurs. 

Many  years  ago,  a  profound  English  thinker,  Henry 
Thomas  Buckle,  in  his  "  Introduction  to  the  History  of 
Civilization  in  England,"  called  attention  to  the  effect  of 
certain  aspects  of  nature  in  producing  types  of  character 
and  temperament,  and  moods  of  feeling  which,  it  is  well 
known,  predispose  a  population  to  emotional  social  conduct. 
In  lands  where  earthquakes,  famines,  and  pestilences  are 
most  frequent,  the  habitual  state  of  fear  represses  a  cool, 
critical,  intellectual  activity,  and  stimulates  imagination 
and  emotion.  These  are  the  states  of  mind  that  most 
powerfully  contribute  to  sympathetic  like-mindedness  and 
impulsive  social  action. 

'  Mental  Conditions^  themselves,  however,  are  the  im- 
mediate causes  of  the  limitation  of  like-mindedness  to  its 
sympathetic  form  and  of  consequent  hasty  action.  Of  all 
these  conditions,  fear  and  ignorance  are  the  most  potent. 
In  the  nature  of  things,  an  ignorant  population  can  act 
deliberately,  that  is  with  rational  consideration,  only  to  a 
very  slight  extent.  Deliberation  must  have  material  to 
work  upon.      Reason  is  as  incapable  of  arriving  at  sound 


Sympathy  and  Impulsive  Social  Action  135 

conclusions,  unless  it  has  stores  of  accurate  knowledge 
to  think  about,  as  the  Israelites  in  Egypt  were  to  make 
their  bricks  without  straw.  An  ignorant  population, 
therefore,  is  at  the  mercy  of  its  sensations,  passions, 
superstitions,  and  fears.  It  can  easily  be  led  to  believe 
that  danger  threatens  when  no  danger  exists,  and  that 
salvation  depends  upon  some  instant  course  of  action  that 
complete  knowledge  would  show  to  be  cruel  and  disastrous. 

Above  all,  however,  is  the  power  of  fear,  that  state  of 
mind  which  puts  in  the  background  such  reason  as  a  man 
may  have,  and  delivers  him  over  to  the  unrestrained  play 
of  his  animal  instincts  and  reflex  actions.  Thus  it  is  that 
in  panics  and  routs,  the  very  delirium  of  social  madness 
is  reached.  The  most  civilized  of  nations  have  not  yet 
brought  themselves  completely  under  the  discipline  that 
masters  fear,  as  was  frightfully  demonstrated  in  the 
appalling  scenes  that  attended  the  burning  of  the  Bazar 
de  Charity  in  Paris,  and  the  sinking  of  the  transatlantic 
steamer  La  Bourgogne  in  1898. 

The  Crowd.  —  Neither  external  physical  conditions  nor 
states  of  the  individual  mind,  however,  would  produce  the 
full  effects  so  often  witnessed  in  impulsive  social  action  if 
there  were  not  added  to  the  combination  a  strictly  social 
condition  also ;  namely,  the  massing  of  men  in  crowds. 
It  is  the  crowd  that  reveals  possibilities  of  unreason, 
frightful  fear,  fury,  and  insatiable  cruelty  from  which 
even  ignorant  and  superstitious  individuals,  in  their 
calmer  moments,  would  shrink  back  appalled.  Much 
valuable  study  of  the  psychology  of  crowds  has  been 
made  in  recent  years  by  able  psychologists  and  sociolo- 
gists. The  crowd  curiously  resembles  the  undeveloped 
mind  of  the  child  and  of  the  savage.     Naturally,  men  in 


136  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

crowds  are  subject  to  a  swift  contagion  of  feeling  that 
would  be  impossible  were  they  dispersed  and  able  to  com- 
municate only  slowly  and  with  difficulty.  For  the  same 
reason,  they  are  extremely  sensitive  to  suggestion  and  to 
unnoticed  influences.  In  crowds  men  are  even  more 
likely  to  think  in  terms  of  symbolic  images,  catch  words, 
and  shibboleths  than  when  by  themselves.  This,  of 
course,  is  because  others  are  continually  calling  their 
attention  to  symbols,  and  with  emotional  fervour  repeating 
the  fetichistic  phrases.  With  the  critical  faculty  in  abey- 
ance, men  in  crowds  are  in  a  state  of  mind  to  be  easily 
deceived,  to  believe  any  wild  rumour  that  is  started,  and 
even  to  become  subject  to  hallucination.  The  crowd  is 
devoid  of  the  sense  of  responsibility  because,  when  lost 
in  the  mass,  the  individual  loses  his  own  feeling  of  re- 
sponsibility and  acquires  a  sense  of  invincible  power,  and 
so  gives  way  to  impulses  which,  if  he  were  alone,  he  would 
control.  Like  the  savage  and  the  child,  the  crowd  is 
intolerant  of  anything  interposed  between  its  desires  and 
their  realization  ;  and  it  always  manifests  a  tendency  to 
carry  suggested  ideas  immediately  into  action.  Crowds, 
therefore,  are  mobile,  and  with  changing  excitants,  they 
are  generous,  heroic,  or  pusillanimous. 

Laws  of  Impulsive  Action.  —  Such  are  some  of  the  condi- 
tions favourable  to  sympathetic  and  impulsive  social  action. 
What,  now,  are  the  laws  of  such  action } 

There  are  three  of  these  laws  that  may  be  regarded  as 
demonstrated. 

Law  of  Origin.  —  The  first  is  the  law  of  origin.  Before 
impulsive  social  action  begins,  there  is  a  certain  amount 
of  preliminary  communication  whereby  sympathetic  like- 
mindedncss    is    developed.      A   certain    situation    exists 


Sympathy  and  Impulsive  Social  Action  137 

which  interests  a  number  of  individuals.  The  sociologi- 
cal problem  is,  Will  these  individuals  become  more  and 
more  like-minded  with  reference  to  this  situation  ?  Will 
it  affect  them  in  the  same  way  to  such  an  extent  that 
they  will  presently  hold  the  same  belief  in  regard  to  its 
causes,  and  find  themselves  disposed  to  enter  upon  the 
same  course  of  action  ? 

In  this  preliminary  stage  of  pomTnunication,  talk  on  the 
subject  becomes  excited,  men  say  irresponsible  and  foolish 
things.  They  become  more  terrified,  more  angry,  or  more 
sentimental,  as  the  case  may  be,  and  more  and  more  liable 
to  give  way  to  an  imitative  following  of  the  first  example 
of  overt  action  that  may  be  set.  At  what  point,  then,  in 
this  now  like-minded  population,  does  the  transition  from 
talk  to  action  begin  .'*  The  answer  to  this  question  is  the 
law  of  the  origin  of  impulsive  action,  as  follows : 

Impulsive  social  action  is  commenced  by  those  elements  of 
the  population  that  are  least  self-controlled. 

This  law  is  demonstrated  in  two  ways ;  namely,  psycho- 
logically and  historically.  Psychologically,  the  normal 
nervous  process  is  one  that  results  in  action,  as  has  been 
shown  at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter.  Stimulus, 
whether  it  be  sensation  or  idea,  if  left  to  itself,  produces 
reflex  action  or  conscious  muscular  movement.  Action 
is  inhibited,  that  is,  restrained  or  prevented,  only  by  the 
higher  and  more  complicated  brain  centres.  The  power 
of  inhibition  is  that  which,  in  common  phrase,  we  call 
self-control.  In  the  crowd  are  gathered  individuals  who 
differ  in  their  inhibitory  control  of  the  nervous  processes 
—  of  the  tendency  to  carry  into  action  the  plan  suggested 
by  the  talk  that  is  overheard.  Those  who  have  the  greater 
power  of  self-control  resist  this  tendency  longer.     In  other 


138  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

words,  those  who  have  least  of  such  power  are  the  first 
to  put  the  suggestion  into  action. 

The  historical  proof  of  this  law  is  derived  from  the  long 
chronicle  of  crazes,  revolutions,  riots,  and  massacres  that 
have  made  human  history  tragic.  There  is  no  better 
exercise  for  the  student  of  Sociology  than  that  of  work- 
ing out  for  himself  the  inductive  proof  of  this  law  of  the 
origin  of  impulsive  social  action.  In  the  suggestions  for 
Parallel  Study,  at  the  end  of  this  chapter,  some  of  the 
chief  historical  examples  of  impulsive  social  action  are 
named.  The  student  should  study  these  examples  with 
the  purpose  of  discovering  just  how  talk  and  agitation 
gave  place  to  violence.  He  will  discover  that  in  all  the 
instances  mentioned,  violence  began  at  the  hands  of  men 
of  very  imperfect  mental  and  moral  development,  and 
usually  criminal  or  qiiasi-Q.\\xi\\\\2\. 

Law  of  Extent  and  Intensity.  —  The  second  law  of 
impulsive  social  action  is  that  of  its  extent  and  intensity. 

This  law  is  deduced  from  the  character  of  the  action 
under  consideration.  It  is  sympathetic  and  imitative. 
This  means  that  each  individual  who  becomes  subject  to 
the  wave  of  feeling  and  impulse  that  is  moving  through 
the  crowd  or  community  is  himself,  in  turn,  an  example 
and  transmitter  of  impulse  to  others.  If,  then,  starting 
from  one  individual,  the  suggestion  or  impulse  is  com- 
municated by  him  to  a  second,  there  are  immediately  two 
centres  of  influence.  If  each  of  these  again  communicates 
the  impulse  to  another  individual  not  yet  reached,  there 
are  immediately  four  centres  of  influence.  If  each  of 
these  communicates  it  to  another,  there  are  immediately 
eight  centres  of  influence.  Thus  the  impulse  extends  in  a 
geometrical  progression. 


Sympathy  and  Impulsive   Social  Action  139 

In  the  same  progression  also  it  intensifies.  The  indi- 
vidual who  started  the  movement  was,  at  the  outset,  sub- 
ject only  to  the  original  stimulus  acting  upon  his  own 
mind.  When,  however,  he  has  communicated  it,  the 
emotional  excitement  of  a  second  mind  reacts  upon  the 
first.  When  they,  in  turn,  have  communicated  it  to 
two  more,  the  emotional  reaction  of  three  minds  has 
begun  to  act  upon  each  of  the  four.  When  those  four, 
in  turn,  have  communicated  it  to  eight,  the  emotional 
excitement  of  seven  has  begun  to  react  upon  each  of 
the  eight,  and  so  on  indefinitely. 

Thus  the  law  of  the  extent  and  intensity  of  impulsive 
social  action  is  as  follows : 

Impulsive  social  action  tends  to  extend  and  to  intensify 
in  a  geometrical  progression. 

Law  of  Restraint.  —  The  third  law  of  impulsive  social 
action  is  the  law  of  restraint. 

The  only  restraint  that  can  hold  in  check  the  tendency 
to  impulsive  social  action  is  deliberation  —  critical,  com- 
prehensive thinking.  Deliberation,  however,  must  have 
become  a  habit  of  mind  in  order  to  exercise  much  restrain- 
ing influence  upon  social  impulse.  It  becomes  a  habirol 
mind  only  in  connection  with  its  employment  in  practical 
activity ;  and  this  happens  when  the  practical  activities 
of  life  are  so  complex  that  it  is  impossible  to  achieve 
success  by  those  direct,  apparently  obvious,  but  really 
futile  means  which  suggest  themselves  to  a  bright  but 
child-like  mind.  To  the  bird  that  has  flown  into  a  room, 
the  obvious  way  to  get  out  seems  to  be  by  vainly  beat- 
ing its  wings  against  the  window-pane.  Only  by  accident 
does  it  discover  that  by  the  indirect  method  of  flying 
down  to  the  space  below  the  raised  sash  it  can  gain  the 


^ 


140  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

desired  freedom.  This  lesson,  that  many  of  the  most  vital 
achievements  in  life  depend  upon  indirect  means  is,  all 
things  considered,  the  most  important  lesson  of  human 
experience.  The  discovery  of  indirect  means  is  possible 
only  through  reason  and  deliberation.  Little  by  little,  as 
such  discoveries  are  made  and  added  to  human  experience, 
and  as  the  habit  of  obtaining  results  by  indirect  means  is 
acquired,  there  is  a  stimulating  reaction  upon  the  develop- 
ment of  reason  itself,  and  a  slow  growth  of  the  habit  of 
deliberation.  And  this  habit,  as  has  been  said,  is  the  only 
means  that  can  be  relied  upon  to  hold  impulsive  social 
tendencies  in  check.  The  law,  then,  of  restraint  of  im- 
pulsive social  action  is : 

Impulsive  social  action  varies  inversely  with  the  habit  of 
attaining  ends  by  indirect  and  complex  means. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Read  Sidis's  "Psychology  of  Suggestion."  Study  the  rise  and  con- 
duct of  the  Crusades,  giving  special  attention  to  the  expeditions  led 
by  Peter  the  Hermit,  Walter  the  Penniless,  and  Gottschalk,  and  to  the 
Crusade  of  the  Children.  Analyze  the  events  of  the  Reign  of  Terror 
in  the  French  Revolution,  and  those  of  the  reign  of  the  Commune  of 
Paris  in  1871.  Study  the  character  of  the  Draft  Riots  in  New  York  in 
1863,  of  the  Pittsburg  Riot  of  1877,  and  of  the  Armenian  Massacres  of 
1894-5-6. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Formal  Like-mindedness  :  Tradition  and  Conformity 

Belief  the  Substance  of  Tradition.  —  Among  the  most 
obvious  modes  of  concurrent  mental  activity  in  human 
societies  are  those  which  consist  in  the  simultaneous  oc- 
cupation of  the  minds  of  many  individuals  with  certain 
beliefs,  precepts,  maxims,  and  facts  of  knowledge  or  sup- 
posed knowledge  that  have  been  handed  down  by  preced- 
ing generations  to  the  present;  and,  in  connection  with 
a  mere  occupation  of  the  'mind  with  these  things,  a  simul- 
taneous like-responsiveness  to  them,  in  the  form  of  a  daily 
obedience  to  the  inherited  precepts  or  rules. 

This  great  body  of  inherited  ideas  and  precepts  is 
called  tradition. 

Tradition  is  composed  in  varying  degrees  of  elements 
that  must  be  distinguished  from  one  another  if  we  wish 
to  have  any  clear  conception  of  the  part  that  tradition 
plays  in  human  affairs. 

In  the  foregoing  chapters,  the  word  "belief"  has  fre- 
quently appeared.  Belief  is  the  largest  element  in  tradi- 
tion. It  is,  therefore,  necessary  to  inquire  just  what 
belief  is,  and  whether  it  differs  from  such  other  intellect- 
ual products  as  knowledge. 

Nature  of  Belief.  —  Many  individuals  who  are  by  no  - 
means  unintelligent  fail  to  make  any  distinction  between 
belief  and  knowledge.     There  is,   however,   a  difference 
that  is  very  real,  and  which  is  not  infrequently  of  vital 

141 


142  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

consequence  in  the  practical  affairs  of  human  life.  To 
those  who  are  unfamiliar  with  the  results  of  modern  in- 
vestigations in  Psychology,  it  may  be  a  strange  discovery 
to  learn  that  belief  is  not,  to  any  important  extent,  a  prod- 
uct of  critical  thinking,  or  of  the  process  of  arriving  at 
rational  judgments,  but  is  rather  a  form  of  emotion.  Be- 
lief is  so  far  separated  from  knowledge  that  not  infre- 
quently the  most  positive  beliefs  are  affirmations  of 
alleged  truths  which,  upon  investigation,  prove  to  have 
absolutely  no  foundation  in  fact.  For  example,  a  man 
may  vehemently  believe  that  his  political  party  will  tri- 
umph in  the  next  election,  when,  if  he  were  to  look  over 
the  field,  he  might  easily  discover  that  the  drift  of  events 
is  such  as  to  make  his  belief  in  reality  absurd. 
^  Knowledge,  on  the  other  hand,  is  truth  that  cannot  be 
overthrown  by  any  process  of  testing  or  criticising.  If, 
for  example,  an  ignorant  man  should  say  to  the  chemist, 
"  I  do  not  believe  your  assertion  that  water  can  be  re- 
solved into  two  gases,  or  that  by  putting  two  gases  to- 
gether in  certain  quantities  you  can  produce  water ;  your 
assertion  in  this  matter  is  no  better  than  that  of  the  man 
who  believes  that  his  party  will  win  in  the  next  election ; " 
the  chemist  has  only  to  reply,  "  Experiment  for  yourself 
then.  Take  a  certain  quantity  of  water  and  deal  with  it 
according  to  my  directions,  and  see  what  result  you  get ; " 
and  this  reply  the  man  who  possesses  scientific  knowledge 
can  make  to  any  objector.  He  can  always  say,  "  This 
proposition  is  true  not  merely  because  I  believe  it,  or  be- 
cause any  other  man  believes  it ;  it  is  true  because  any 
man  who  disbelieves  it  can,  if  he  will,  subject  it  to  any 
sort  of  test  or  criticism  without  being  able  to  overthrow 
it." 


Formal  Like-minded7iess :   Tradition  and  Conformity     143 

The  Origins  of  Belief.  —  Why,  then,  i^  it  that  all  of  us 
have  minds  stocked  with  beliefs  instead  of  stored  with 
verified  knowledge  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  great  body  of 
traditions  is,  as  has  been  said,  composed  largely  of  beliefs 
handed  down  from  the  past  and  cherished  with  reverent 
regard  ?     What,  in  short,  is  the  cause  of  belief  ? 

The  simplest  answer  to  this  question  is  found  in  the 
familiar  experience  that  when  we  have  once  done  a  thing, 
we  feel  that  we  can  do  it  again ;  that  when  we  have  done 
many  things,  we  acquire  from  our  success  a  feeling  of  self- 
assurance,  a  sense  of  power,  -which  takes  the  form  of  a 
conviction  that  we  could  do  many  things  that  we  have  not 
yet  attempted. 

At  first  sight,  this  account  of  the  matter^does  not  seem 
to  have  a  close  connection  with  two  large  classes  of  beliefs 
that  all  men  indulge  in  ;  namely,  first,  beliefs  that  certain 
events  which  must  be  produced  by  others  or  by  imper- 
sonal nature  rather  than  by  ourselves  will,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  occur;  and,  second,  beliefs  that  events  which  we 
know  were  not  produced  by  ourselves  did  in  fact  occur  at 
some  time  in  the  past.  Nevertheless,  the  connection  is  a 
real  one ;  and  it  is  because  of  our  own  power  to  do  things, 
that  we  believe  that  events  which  we  are  interested  in  will 
happen,  or  that  alleged  events  in  the  past  which  also  we 
are  interested  in  did  happen. 

The  connection  is  this :  When  we  attempt  or  expect  to 
do  anything,  we  are  in  a  state  of  emotional  excitement. 
In  most  instances  we  do  or  expect  to  do  because  we  de- 
sire or  ardently  wish  to  accomplish  a  certain  thing.  The 
desire  is  the  stimulus  that  sets  our  motor  apparatus  in 
operation.  If,  then,  we  have  so  often  succeeded  in  achiev- 
ing the  hoped-for  purpose  that  we  have  acquired  confi- 


144  ^'^^  Elements  of  Sociology 

dence  in  our  power  to  achieve,  we  have,  at  the  same  time, 
without  being  aware  that  we  were  doing  so,  established  a 
close  connection  between  ardent  hope  and  the  expectation 
of  realizing  hope.  That  is  to  say,  if,  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten,  in  the  things  that  we  ourselves  hope  for  and  strive 
for,  the  hope  actually  is  realized,  there  grows  up  in  our 
nervous  organization  a  close  connection  between  hope,  or 
desire,  and  the  confident  expectation  that  hope  will  be 
realized.  Therefore,  in  consequence  of  this  habit  of  mind, 
it  happens  that  any  future  event  which  we  strongly  de- 
sire we  also  expect,  unless  the  critical  habit  of  asking 
sceptical  questions,  and  trying  to  find  out  what  actual  facts 
would  justify  our  expectation,  steps  in  to  interrupt  the 
natural  process  of  belief-formation. 

One  further  stage  in  this  natural  process  has  still  to  be 
mentioned.  Some  of  our  beliefs  are  convictions  that  our 
ideas  of  events  or  things  are  true  pictures  of  them,  and 
that  certain  theories  or  explanations  are  true  accounts  of 
the  facts,  although  we  have  not  actually  subjected  them 
to  any  test.  Are  these  beliefs  also  closely  associated  with 
our  confidence  in  our  own  powers } 

This  association  also  is  real,  and  comes  about  as  follows : 
In  all  our  attempts  to  do  things,  we  are  not  only  actuated 
by  the  strong  desire  which  is  easily  converted  into  an  ex- 
pectation of  success,  but  also  we  are  guided  by  our  mental 
picture  of  the  thing  to  be  achieved,  and  by  that  theory  of 
what  the  thing  is,  and  of  the  best  way  to  attack  it,  or  to 
deal  with  it,  which  we  provisionally  accept  as  a  plan  of 
operation. 

Now,  similar  to  the  connection  between  success  and 
expectation,  is  a  connection  between  success  and  antece- 
dent ideas.     If  we  have  so  often  succeeded  hitherto  in  our 


Formal  Like-mindedness :  Tradition  and  Conformity     145 

attempts  to  do  things  that  we  now  confidently  expect  to 
succeed  in  future  undertakings,  it  is  certain  that,  in  a  ma- 
jority of  instances,  our  ideas  of  the  thing  to  be  achieved 
and  our  theories  of  the  best  way  of  achieving  have,  on 
the  whole,  been  sound.  Consequently,  there  is  established 
in  our  minds  an  intimate  association  between  any  idea  or 
theory  that  we  vividly  conceive,  and  which  takes  strong 
possession  of  our  minds,  and  the  expectation  that  this  idea 
or  theory  will  turn  out  to  be  true.  We  acquire  the  same 
self-assured  confidence  in  our  own  ideas  that  we  have  in 
our  own  power  to  achieve  success.  In  the  absence  of  a 
critical,  sceptical  habit  of  putting  our  ideas  and  theories 
to  severe  tests,  we  unthinkingly  assume  or  take  for  granted 
that  any  vivid,  clear  idea  presented  in  our  minds  is  with- 
out doubt  a  true  idea. 

This,  then,  is  the  nature  of  belief.  It  is  the  confident 
expectation  that  what  we  desire  will  come  true ;  that  what 
we  find  to  be  extremely  interesting  in  accounts  of  the 
past  were  true ;  that  ideas  and  theories  which  stand  forth 
clearly  in  our  mind,  undoubtedly  are  true.  And  this  con- 
fidence we  feel  because,  in  a  majority  of  instances,  the 
things  that  we  have  desired  and  striven  for  have  been 
realized;  and  the  ideas  and  theories  that  we  have  acted 
upon  in  our  striving  have  turned  out  to  be  sufficiently 
accurate  for  practical  purposes.  Consequently,  the  habit 
of  our  minds  is  this :  in  the  absence  of  criticism,  whatever 
we  ardently  desire,  we  confidently  expect;  whatever  we 
vividly  imagine,  we  believe  to  be  true. 

Belief,  accordingly,  is  analogous  to  reflex  action  and 
response  to  suggestion.  We  have  seen  that,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  any  intervention  of  the  higher  thought  centres, 
—  of  any  inhibition  of  action  by  a  critical  deliberation,  — 


146  Xhe  Elements  of  Sociology 

stimulation  is  followed  by  a  nervous  discharge  and  mus- 
cular movement.  In  like  manner,  in  the  absence  of  criti- 
cal investigation,  desire  and  imagination  pass  immediately 
and  without  obstruction  into  belief. 

From  the  foregoing  account  of  belief,  the  reader  will 
easily  gather  that  belief  is  more  closely  associated  with 
the  sympathetic,  emotional,  and  imitative  modes  of  mental 
activity  than  with  the  rational  and  deliberative  modes. 
This  is  true ;  and  it  may  be  added  that  belief  is  just  a 
further  stage  in  the  development  of  the  emotional  and 
imaginative  states  of  the  mind,  which  has  resulted  from 
subjecting  them  to  a  series  of  practical  experiments,  in 
which  success  has,  all  in  all,  been  more  frequent  than 
failure. 
1/  Common  Beliefs.  —  Let  us  now  apply  these  truths  to 
the  further  explanation  of  the  social  mind. 

In  the  experience  of  the  community,  as  in  that  of  the 
individual,  emotional  conduct,  guided  chiefly  by  imagina- 
tion, has  more  often  than  not  achieved  a  measure  of  real 
success  in  practical  undertakings.  In  accordance  with 
the  processes  of  mental  development  just  explained,  these 
successes  have  created  prevailing  beliefs  in  the  commu- 
nity in  regard  to  the  objects  of  practical  endeavour,  the 
conditions  of  individual  and  social  existence,  and  the 
methods  of  individual  and  social  activity  by  which  prac- 
tical success  in  life  is  attained.  These  beliefs  are  com- 
municated from  the  old  to  the  young,  and,  as  they  become 
more  and  more  firm  in  quality,  they  are  taught  with  many 
strong  asseverations  of  their  certain  truth  and  practical 
value.  Thus,  as  was  said  at  the  beginning  of  this  chap- 
ter, they  become  the  chief  material  clement  in  that  mass 
of  social  memories  which  we  call  tradition. 


Formal  Like-mindedness :   Tradition  and  Conformity     147 

With  them,  however,  is  mingled  precept  —  the  injunc- 
tion to  heed  and  to  cherish  the  beliefs  themselves.  With 
belief  and  precept  are  mingled  also  many  shreds  and 
scraps  of  actual  knowledge.  To  some  extent,  in  the 
course  of  time,  beliefs  are  subjected  to  doubt,  to  critical 
investigation,  and,  if  they  happen  to  be  true,  to  verifica- 
tion. Under  this  process,  the  verifiable  elements  of  be- 
lief become  scientific  knowledge. 

We  have  now  to  observe  next  what  orders  or  classes 
the  whole  body  of  social  traditions  may  be  divided  into 
in  accordance  with  the  subject-matter. 

The  Three  Orders  of  Traditions.  —  The  whole  body  of 
tradition  is  differentiated  into  three  great  orders  of  tra- 
ditions ;  and  these  are  differentiated  into  particular  tradi- 
tions which  correspond  to  the  varied  interests  of  life.  ^^ 

The  primary  traditions  are  the  economic,  the  juridical,  *- 
and  the  political.  When  we  were  analyzing  the  practical 
activities  of  a  social  population,  we  discovered  that  the 
simple  and  primary  activities  are  those  of  appreciation, 
utilization,  characterization,  and  socialization.  We  also 
discovered  that  more  complicated  activities  are  produced 
by  the  combination  of  socialization  with  utilization  and 
characterization.  The  elementary  processes  of  apprecia- 
tion, utilization,  and  characterization  are  individual  pro- 
cesses. They  are  activities  which  the  individual  may 
carry  on,  irrespective  of  his  association  with  fellow-beings. 
For  this  reason  there  are  no  traditions  corresponding  to 
these  beginnings  of  practical  activity.  Tradition  is  a 
social  fact,  and  can  come  into  existence  only  after  some 
activity  of  socialization.  Consequently,  the  earliest  ac- 
tivities to  give  rise  to  bodies  of  traditional  belief  and 
precept    are    those    complicated    ones    that    are   formed 


148  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

by  the  union  of  socialization  with  utilization  and  character- 
t  .zation. 

Thus  the  traditions  of  utility  are  economic  in  form ; 
they  are  traditions  of  the  utility  that  is  socially  produced 
through  various  forms  of  mutual  aid.  The  earliest  tradi- 
tions of  morality  and  characterization  are  in  form  traditions 
of  that  socially  produced  right  conduct,  the  chief  factor 
of  which  is  toleration.  The  traditions  of  socialization 
itself,   in   like   manner,    are   traditions   of    that   union  of 

economic   and   juristic  activity,   in   combination  with  de- 

•J 

fensive  and  offensive  alliance,  which  constitutes  political 
activity. 
^  The  Primary  Traditions.  —  The  economic  tradition, 
probably  the  first  to  grow  out  of  human  experience,  is  a 
product  of  the  relations  of  superiors  to  inferiors,  including 
among  inferiors  not  only  less  powerful  human  beings,  but 
also  animals,  and  all  vegetable  organisms  and  inorganic 
things  that  can  be  appropriated  by  the  superiors  or  pressed 
into  their  service.  This  tradition  is  not,  to  any  great 
extent,  made  up  of  conscious  analyses  of  useful  relations, 
useful  activities,  and  degrees  of  utility.  The  tradition  is 
concrete ;  but  in  the  concrete  it  includes  a  scale  of  com- 
parative values.  It  includes  popular  beliefs  that  some 
things  are  more  important  or  useful  than  others.  It 
includes  the  popular  ideas  in  regard  to  food,  shelter,  and 
objects  that  afford  pleasure;  it  includes  also  the  popular 
beliefs  and  precepts  in  regard  to  implements,  clothing, 
gifts,  trade,  labour,  and  cooperation.  All  this  economic 
tradition  originally  centres  in  the  household  ;  but  in  the 
civilized  world  it  extends  to  that  elaborate  organization 
of  manufactures  and  commerce  which  has  been  differen- 
tiated from  household  industry. 


Formal  Like-7nindediiess :   Tradition  and  Confonnity     149 

Second  in  importance  among  the  primary  traditions  is  the  ^ 
juristic  tradition,  which  grows  out  of  the  relations  of  antag- 
onistic equals.  It  has  been  shown  that  the  effective  sanc- 
tion of  toleration  is  vengeance.  The  modes  of  vengeance 
and  the  phases  of  toleration  that  are  suitable  to  different 
circumstances  are  named  and  described  in  rules  of  custom 
which  formulate  those  enjoyments  and  immunities  that  are 
habitually  allowed.  Collectively,  these  rules  of  objective 
and  sanctioned  right  form  the  substance  of  what  is  called 
the  Common  Law. 

Third  in  importance  among  the  primary  traditions  is 
the  tradition  of  alliance  in  its  political  form.  It  grows  out 
of  relations  to  allies  and  superiors.  Political  alliance  pre- 
supposes traditions  of  utility  and  of  toleration.  Its  motive, 
is  the  desire  to  strengthen  the  traditions  of  utility  and  of'\ 
toleration  by  an  obedience-compelling  power,  and  to  extend 
their  application.  The  political  tradition,  therefore,  is  de- 
veloped out  of  the  economic  and  juridical  traditions,  and 
in  its  evolution  it  is  closely  interwoven  with  them. 

These  three  primary  traditions  are  the  records  of  human  %• 
experiences  of  the  tangible  world,  the  world  of  things  and 
persons  that  can  be  seen,  used,  contended  with,  and  com- 
bined with. 

The  Secondary  Traditions  are  the  animistic  or  personal,  *^ 
the  poetic,   and  the  religious.     They  are  the  records  of 
man's  impressions  of  an  intangible  world  —  a  world  of  per- 
sonal  consciousness,    and   of   the    shadows,    images,   and 
echoes  of  tangible  things. 

The  personal  or  animistic  tradition  is  the  sum  of  man's     t 
beliefs  about  himself   and  other  beings  as  consisting  of 
body  and  soul.     Children  and  savages,  and  many  ignorant 
persons  in  civilized   communities,  conceive  of   inanimate 


150  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

objects  as  personal.  Beliefs  about  their  supposed  habits 
and  pcwers  constitute  a  large  part  of  the  animistic  tradition. 
Animals,  in  like  manner,  are  conceived  of  by  such  persons 
as  being  like  men  not  only  in  their  power  of  voluntary 
motion,  but  also  in  powers  of  thought,  imagination,  and 
purpose. 

The  poetic  tradition  consists  of  beliefs  about  sounds 
and  images  as  means  of  personal  expression.  The  sav- 
age regards  the  shadow  or  image  as  a  veritable  spiritual 
essence  ;  the  echo  as  the  audible  voice  of  an  unseen  soul. 
The  civilized  man  has  ceased  to  regard  sounds  and  forms 
as  living  things  in  any  such  crude  sense ;  but  through 
them,  in  music,  in  poetry,  and  in  the  plastic  arts,  he  ex- 
presses and  he  reads  the  subtlest  moods  of  emotion  and 
imagination.  From  the  earliest  times,  poetry  and  art  have 
conceived  of  the  world  and  all  things  in  it  as  essentially 
animate  or  personal ;  and  this  fact  is  described  in  systems 
of  rhetoric  as  the  habit  or  art  of  personification.  The 
truth  of  the  matter  is  that  personification,  as  the  peculiar 
quality  of  poetry  or  art,  is  not  a  rhetorical  or  artistic  inven- 
tion. It  is  the  survival  of  the  primitive  man's  way  and  of 
the  child's  way  of  thinking  about  the  world  and  describing 
it.  The  poetic  way  of  conceiving  the  world  is  that  which 
accepts  the  appearance  of  personality  as  real,  and  accepts 
all  images,  words,  and  sounds,  as  themselves  realities. 

The  religious  tradition  is  the  sum  of  beliefs  about  the 
continued  existence  of  the  soul  after  the  death  of  the  body 
and  about  invisible  personal  powers,  from  ghosts  to  gods, 
which  are  supposed  to  govern  natural  phenomena  and  to 
control  human  destinies.  Savages  think  that  the  world  is 
peopled  with  the  spirits  of  the  dead.  They  are  regarded 
with   fear;   and   beliefs  about  them  are  a  confused  web 


Formal  Like-mindedtzess :   Tradition  and  Conformity     151 

of  superstition.  To  the  barbarian,  spirits  are  of  various 
ranks,  from  inferior  and  contemptible  ghosts  to  powerful 
gods  who,  usually,  are  the  ghosts  of  great  chieftains  or  the 
animating  spirits  of  awe-inspiring  natural  objects.  In 
civilized  lands,  the  ignorant  still  believe  in  ghosts ;  and  a 
majority  of  the  people  believe  in  the  existence  of  personal 
gods,  or  of  one  Omnipotent  God. 

The  Tertiary  Traditions  are  found  only  in  civilized  lands. 
They  are  traditions  of  conceptual  thought.  In  other 
words,  they  are  the  record  of  human  reasoning  and  specu- 
lative thinking  rather  than  of  mere  impression  and  belief. 
They  have  been  developed  by  an  application  of  specula- 
tive thinking  or  of  scientific  investigation  to  the  subject- 
matter  of  popular  belief. 

The  oldest  of  the  tertiary  traditions  is  the  theological 
tradition,  which  was  created  by  an  elaborate  process  of  rea- 
smjing  and  speculation  upon  the  materials  furnished  by  pop- 
ular religious  beliefs.  It  is  the  sum  and  record  of  attempts 
to  demonstrate  by  reason  the  existence  of  a  personal  God, 
to  explain  his  nature  and  purposes,  and  to  prove  that  he 
created  and  providentially  governs  the  world  and  man. 

The  second  of  the  tertiary  traditions  is  the  metaphysi- 
cal. It  has  been  derived  from  the  theological.  It  refines 
the  theological  explanation  of  the  universe  by  interpos- 
ing "  secondary  causes,"  laws,  and  principles  between 
phenomena  and  their  ultimate  cause  —  the  fiat  of  God. 

The  third  of  the  tertiary  traditions  is  the  scientific. 
The  scientific  tradition  is  the  sum  of  our  actual  knowledge 
of  the  world  and  of  man  as  distinguished  from  our  con- 
jectures about  them.  It  is  the  sifted  record  of  observa- 
tions, experiments,  and  classifications.  Making  no  attempt 
to  penetrate  the  final  mystery  of  existence,  the  scientific 


152  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

tradition  explains  the  constitution  of  the  world  only  to  the 
extent  of  showing  how  one  thing  is  related  to  other  things 
in  sequence  and  in  coexistence. 

Formal  Like-mindedness.  —  The  popular  acceptance  of 
tradition  —  of  beliefs  that  have  been  handed  down  from 
past  generations  —  and  obedience  to  the  rules  and  pre- 
cepts that  are  embodied  in  the  various  traditions,  are 
modes  of  like-mindedness.  But,  unlike  those  described 
in  the  preceding  chapter,  they  are  not  spontaneous  or 
impulsive ;  they  are  rather  to  be  described  as  formal  like- 
mindedness.  They  are  analogous  to  habit  in  the  indi- 
vidual mind. 

Formal  like-mindedness  is  produced  by  two  chief 
means.  ^  The  tendency  of  the  mind  to  accept  as  true  what- 
ever is  vividly  imagined  or  ardently  desired,  if  no  critical 
activity  of  the  reason  intervenes,  is  enormously  strength- 
ened when  the  thing  believed,  or  that  the  mind  tends 
to  believe,  is  already  believed  by  other  persons  in  whom 
the  individual  has  personal  confidence.  In  the  preceding 
chapter  it  was  shown  that  any  spontaneous  emotion  or 
impulse  awakened  in  the  mind  by  an  emblem  or  shibbo- 
leth is  enormously  strengthened  by  knowledge  that  other 
persons  also  are  moved  by  it.  ^  'In  like  manner,  the  ten- 
dency of  the  mind  to  believe  anything  is  strengthened  by 
the  knowledge  that  other  persons  already  believe.  In 
short,  the  consciousness  of  kind  is  a  powerful  element 
in  the  growth  of  popular  belief. 

3  Yet  further  is  the  tendency  to  believe  strengthened  by 
the  knowledge  that  not  only  one's  contemporaries  believe, 
but  that  preceding  generations  for  ages  past  also  have 
believed.  The  presumption  in  favour  of  the  truth  of  the 
belief  has  become  enormous,  not  only  because  its  antiquity 


Formal  Like-mindedness :  Tradition  and  Conformity     153 

is  an  impressive  fact  appealing  to  imagination,  but  be- 
cause, if  the  critical  intelligence  begins  to  question,  it  is 
likely  to  be  easily  satisfied  by  the  reflection  that  if  the 
belief  were  untrue,  its  falsity  must  long  ago  have  been 
discovered  and  exposed. 

Tradition  thus  acquires  in  human  society  all  the  tremen- 
dous force  of  authority.  Authority  is  a  moral  power  that 
constrains  man's  will  without  his  knowing  or  being  able 
to  find  out  why.  It  is  born  of  emotion  and  belief  rather 
than  of  reason,  which  is  ever  asking  the  wherefore  and 
the  why.  Nevertheless,  since  reason  and  rational  self- 
control  are  of  slow  growth,  the  authority  of  tradition 
serves  a  useful  end  in  helping  to  maintain  social  order. 

The  second  means  by  which  formal  like-mindedness  is  < 
developed  is  found  in  direct  teaching  and  discipline.  Tra-  * 
dition^Mthposed  upon  the  child  by  his  parents  and  elder 
acquaintances.  He  is  directly  taught  that  the  traditional 
beliefs  are  true,  and  that  it  is  even  wrong  to  doubt  their 
truth  and  authority.  Disbelief  is  often  punished ;  and  dis- 
obedience of  traditional  precept  is  punished  usually.  Not 
only  so,  but  through  the  intimate  association  between  tra- 
dition and  the  everyday  activities  of  life,  the  child  insen- 
sibly associates  the  practical  activity  with  its  traditional 
background.  In  his  economic  life,  in  his  legal  relations 
and  political  activities,  he  can  take  no  single  step  without 
practically  accepting  most  of  the  traditional  system.  Daily 
life  thus  becomes  a  ceaseless  discipline  and  drill  in  activi- 
ties which  openly  or  tacitly  assume  the  truth  and  suffi- 
ciency of  tradition. 

In  general,  it  may  be  said  that  while  occasional  events, 
and  especially  the  dramatic  events  of  life,  produce  sympa- 
thetic like-mindedness;  the  routine  of  habitual  activity,  the 


154  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

teaching  and  the  discipline  of  life,  continually  tend  to 
produce  formal  like-mindedness,  including  conformity  to 
established  customs. 

The  Laws  of  Traditional  Control. — The  development  of 
formal  like-mindedness  by  the  means  above  described  is 
due  to  the  emotional  nature  of  belief.  Because  it  is  emo- 
tional and  imaginative,  and  in  its  genesis  closely  allied  to 
motor  processes,  belief  compels  its  adherents  to  assert  it 
vehemently,  to  teach  it  zealously,  to  try  to  make  others 
accept  it,  and  to  compel  conformity^  to  its  precepts. 
Knowledge,  on  the  other  hand,  or  verified  scientific  truth, 
never  tries  to  compel  allegiance.  Essentially  intellectual 
and  contemplative,  it  waits  to  be  accepted  by  those  who 
have  the  intelligence  to  discover  and  appreciate  it. 

From  the  foregoing  facts,  it  follows  that,  when  the  so- 
cial mind  assumes  the  mode  of  belief,  it  becomes  an  active 
social  force  tending  to  compel  acceptance  and  conformity. 

This  control  by  belief  is  reinforced  by  the  influence  of 
antiquity,  chiefly  because  mere  venerableness  is  impressive 
and  has  much  of  the  effectiveness  of  emblem  and  shibboleth. 

Accordingly,  the  laws  of  the  social  force  of  tradition 
y      are  : 

First,  tradition  is  authoritative  and  coercive  in  proportion 
to  its  antiquity. 

Second,  traditioji  is  authoritative  and  coercive  in  propor- 
tion as  its  subject-matter  consists  of  belief  rather  than  of 
critically  established  knowledge. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Read  Blackstone's  account  of  Custom  ;  Wundt's  "  Ethics,"  Volume  I, 
Chapter  III ;  Maine's  «  Early  Law  and  Custom,"  Chapter  II ;  and  Spen- 
cer's "  Principles  of  Sociology,"  Volume  III,  Part  VI,  Chapters  IX,  XII, 
XIII,  XIV. 


CHAPTER   XV 

Rational     Like-mindedness  :     Public     Opinion     and 
Social    Values 

The  Rational  Origin  of  Public  Opinion.  —  No  error  is  more 
common  than  one  which  confounds  popular  beliefs  with 
the  social  judgments  that  constitute  true  public  opinion. 
Public  belief,  as  has  been  shown,  is  essentially  emotional ; 
while  judgments  are  a  product  of  critical  thinking,  and  are 
essentially  rational  in  character.  Where  two  or  more  indi- 
viduals, each  oT  whom  is  capable  of  subjecting  his  ideas 
and  inherited  beliefs  to  a  critical  examination,  come  to  the 
same  conclusion,  so  that  their  critically  tested  judgments 
are  identical,  the  result  is  a  rational  like-mindedness,  and 
is  properly  to  be  spoken  of  as  public  opinion.  Another 
way  of  stating  the  same  truth  is  to  say  that  public  opinion 
comes  into  existence  only  when  a  sympathetic  like-minded- 
ness or  an  agreement  in  belief  is  subjected  to  criticism, 
started  by  some  sceptical  individual  who  doubts  the  truth 
of  the  belief  or  the  wisdom  of  the  agreement ;  and  an  opin- 
ion is  then  thought  out  to  which  many  communicating 
minds  can  yield  their  rational  assent. 

It  is  obvious  that  not  all  members  of  a  community  are 
equally  competent  to  share  in  the  creation  of  the  critical 
judgments  that  constitute  true  public  opinion.  Yet, 
nearly  every  individual  of  ordinary  intelligence  may  share 
in  it  to  some  extent.     All  that  is  necessary  is  that  his  be- 

155 


156  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

liefs  should  be  assailed  by  doubt,  and  that,  after  passing 
through  the  experience  of  questioning  and  uncertainty,  he 
should  arrive  at  judgments  for  which  he  can  give  reasons 
rather  than  at  convictions  which  he  merely  feels. 

The  process  by  which  doubt  is  created,  criticism  is  in- 
stituted, and  judgments  are  arrived  at  in  society,  is  called 
discussion.  In  discussion,  conflicting  beliefs  are  compared, 
analyzed,  and  subjected  to  argument.  So  long  as  men 
accept  as  true  everything  that  they  hear  repeated,  or  that 
they  are  themselves  prone  to  believe,  their  talk  is  not  to 
be  described  as  discussion.  It  becomes  discussion  only 
when  some  one  disputes  or  denies,  and  thereby  compels 
those  who  assert  to  give  reasons,  or  advance  arguments,  in 
support  of  what  they  affirm.  It  is  in  this  wholesome  pro- 
cess of  intellectual  strife,  as  invigorating  to  the  mind  as 
athletic  exercise  is  to  the  body,  that  false  beliefs  are  ex- 
posed, and  true  views  are  confirmed  by  the  verdict  of  an 
alert  and  all-searching  reason. 

Public  opinion,  then,  develops  in    any  community  just 

to  the  extent  that  free  discussion   develops,  just   to  the 

extent   that   men   are  in   the   habit  of   asking  searching 

questions    and    compelling    one    another   to   prove    their 

assertions. 

.y     Public  opinion,  therefore,  can  exist  only  where  men  are 

/    in  continual  communication,  and  where  they  are  free  to 

(      express  their  real  minds,  without  fear  or  restraint.     Where- 

\     ever  men  are  forbidden  by  governmental  or  other  authority 

<^^   to  assemble,  to  hold  meetings,  to  speak  or  write  freely,  or 

]  wherever  they  stand  in  fear  of  losing  social  position,  or 

/  employment,  or  property,  if  they  freely  speak  their  minds, 

j   there  is  no  true  public  opinion  ;  there  is  only  a  mass  of 

I  traditional  beliefs  or  outbursts  of  popular  feeling. 


Public  Opinion  and  Social   Values  157 

Products  of  Thought  and  Tradition.  —  In  the  preceding 
chapter  it  was  shown  that  men  believe  that  their  ideas  are 
true,  and  that  their  desires  will  be  realized  because,  in 
actual  experience,  their  ideas  have  turned  out  to  be  suffi- 
ciently near  the  truth  for  practical  purposes,  and  most  of 
their  desires  have  been  fulfilled.  This  amounts  to  saying 
that  most  of  the  beliefs  of  mankind  have  been  true,  or  have 
contained  a  large  measure  of  truth.  Consequently,  criti- 
cal discussion  which,  from  time  to  time,  modifies  popular 
belief,  seldom  succeeds  in  completely  overthrowing  or  anni- 
hilating it.  There  is  continually  taking  place  an  amalga- 
mation of  critical  judgments  with  tradition  ;  and  the  result 
is  a  number  of  important  products  of  the  social  mind,  all  of 
which  may  be  described  as  combinations  of  tradition  with 
new  thought.  These  products  are  known  as  standards, 
codes,  policies,  ideals,  tastes,  faiths,  creeds,  and  "isms." 

The  Standard  of  Living. — The   combination   of   eco-,. 
nomic   traditions  with  current  economic  opinions  is   the/ 
general  standard  of  living  of  the  community.     This  term 
has  been  loosely  used  by  economic  writers.     The  commod- 
ities that  a  labouring  class  consumes  are  not  its  standard 
of  living ;  they  are  merely  an  index  of  its  standard.     Still 
less  is  mere  desire  a  standard.    The  labour  agitator  has  not 
necessarily  a  higher  standard  of  living  than  his  followers 
have  if  he  fluently  discourses  of  refined  wants  which  they — 
do  not  feel.     The  real  standard  of  living  is  a  certain  con- 
ception of  economic  life  which  regulates  desire  and  controls]  '^ 
conduct.     It  is  constituted  of  traditional  beliefs  and  new 
ideas  in  varying  proportions,  and  changes  as  these  factors 
change.     It  is  not  because  the  Hungarian  is  satisfied  with 
food  and  lodging  that  would  disgust  an  American,  that  the 
Hungarian  standard  of  living  in  the  coke-burning  districts 


158  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

of  Pennsylvania  is  lower  than  the  American  standard. 
The  Hungarian  is  so  easily  satisfied  because  his  standard 
of  living  is  lower. 

The  Legal  Code.  —  The  combination  of  jural  tradition 
with  new  law  is  the  legal  code.  To  what  extent  the  pub- 
lic opinion  of  the  hour,  not  yet  enacted  into  statute,  is  an 
element  in  new  law  is  a  question  upon  which  jurists  disa- 
gree. It  is  admitted  that  public  opinion  influences  the 
interpretation  of  law ;  and  in  a  republic  public  opinion  is 
the  real  law-enforcing  power  back  of  all  nominal  powers. 
For  the  purposes  of  theory  and  practice,  all  authoritatively 
declared  law  is  held  to  be  law  until  it  is  authoritatively 
repealed.  But  as  a  phenomenon  of  the  social  mind,  a  rule 
of  conduct  that  public  opinion  refuses  to  enforce  is  already 
undergoing  repeal. 

Public  Policy. — The  combination  of  political  tradition 
and  current  political  opinion  is  policy  —  a  plan  or  pro- 
gramme of  legislation  and  administration.  In  quiet  times, 
when  a  party  or  government  has  long  been  intrenched  in 
power,  the  element  of  tradition  predominates.  Often  have 
political  parties  suffered  defeat  and  passed  into  temporary 
or  perm'afient  obscurity  because  of  inability  to  vitalize  their 
policy  with  fresh  issues.  In  times  of  disturbance,  or  when 
new  interests  clamour  for  attention,  the  predominant  ele- 
ment in  policy  is  current  opinion. 

Ideals  and  Creeds.  —  New  thought  in  combination  with 
the  tradition  of  personality  creates  an  ideal.  The  product 
of  the  poetic  tradition  and  current  criticism  is  taste.  The 
product  of  traditional  religious  beliefs  and  current  reli- 
gious ideas  is  a  faith.  The  modification  of  the  theological 
tradition  by  current  conceptions  is  a  creed.  The  modifi- 
cation of  the  metaphysical  tradition  by  current  speculation 


Public  Opinion  and  Social  Values  159 

is  an  "ism."  The  modification  of  the  scientific  tradition 
by  fresh  discoveries  has  and  needs  no  special  name;  for 
Science  makes  no  compromises  between  the  old  and  the 
new.  Whatever  of  the  old  is  verified  by  later  research  is 
retained ;  whatever  is  disproved  is  rejected,  and  the  net 
result  is  truth. 

These  products  of  tradition  and  opinion  exist  only  in 
individual  minds.  The  argument  occasionally  met  with, 
that  because  they  can  be  committed  to  writing,  they  are 
independent  objective  realities,  is  a  fallacy.  The  written 
page  is  meaningless  apart  from  the  knowledge  of  the  living 
reader.  But  at  any  given  moment  they  exist  in  a  multi- 
tude of  interacting  minds,  and^re  therefore  objective  as 
well  as  subjective  to  each  individual.  Upon  each  mind  as 
it  unfolds  they  are  imposed  from  without,  and  are  sanc- 
tioned by  penalties  for  disregard  or  disobedience  that 
range  from  ridicule,  disapproval,  and  boycotting,  to  collec- 
tive force  and  vengeance.  Through  the  channels  of  its 
standards,  codes,  and  policies ;  of  its  ideals,  tastes,  and 
faiths ;  of  its  creeds,  "  isms,"  and  investigations,  the  men- 
tal life  of  society  flows  in  an  ever-changing  distribution. 
One  generation  is  absorbed  in  political  concerns ;  another 
in  business  affairs.  At  one  time  society  is  religious ;  at 
another  time  creative  and  artistic ;  at  yet  another  time 
scientific.  Always,  however,  a  tendency  towards  the  es- 
tablishment of  a  normal  equilibrium  may  be  observed.  At 
any  given  moment,  traditional  beliefs  and  current  opinions 
assume  unlike  forms  in  different  parts  of  the  popula- 
tion. The  products  of  the  social  mind  are  mutually 
dependent. 

Social  Values.  —  Belief  and  tradition  are  products  of  in- 
tellectual  activity  in    combination  with  emotion.     Public 


i6o  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

opinion  is  almost  wholly  an  intellectual  product.  The 
combinations  of  public  opinion  with  tradition  that  have 
just  been  described  are  largely  intellectual  in  character, 
though  not  altogether  so.  All  these  products  become 
further  complicated  by  the  combination  with  them  of  the 
ever-changing  moods  of  desire.  In  these  combinations, 
and  certain  resulting  products  now  to  be  described,  we 
have  the  final  and  most  complex  integration  of  the  ele- 
ments and  products  of  the  social  mind. 

The  immediate  products  of  social  desire  in  combination 
with  social  judgments  and  traditions  are  social  values. 
By  this  term  we  mean  social  estimations  of  certain  satis- 
factions, relations,  modes  of  activity,  and  forms  of  social 
organization,  which  are  analogous  to  those  valuations  of 
material  wealth  and  of  useful  activities  that  are  made  by 
the  individual  mind  and  form  a  part  of  the  subject-matter 
of  economic  science. 

The  objects  of  social  value,  like  objects  of  value  in  the 
economic  sense,  are  of  two  classes  or  categories.  One 
class  comprises  those  objects  that  are  esteemed  for  the 
direct  or  immediate  satisfaction  that  they  yield,  as  the 
goods  which,  like  food  and  clothing  ready  for  immediate 
consumption,  are  esteemed  for  the  utility  that  they  directly 
afford.  The  other  class  comprises  those  objects  of  social 
value  that  are  esteemed  because  they  are  means  to  the 
attainment  of  the  objects  of  the  first  class,  just  as  tools, 
machinery,  and  other  forms  of  capital  goods  are  esteemed 
because  they  are  means  to  the  production  of  goods  for 
immediate  consumption. 

Primary  Values.  —  In  the  first  chapter,  it  was  shown 
that  companionship,  like-mindedness,  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  kind,  are  immediately  pleasurable.    Quite  irrespec- 


Public  Opinion  and  Social  Values  i6i 

tive  of  such  useful  results  as  safety  and  the  increase  of 
material  wealth  through  cooperation  and  the  division  of 
labor,  society  affords  immediate  satisfaction  to  its  indi- 
vidual members.  ,.. 

From  this  fact  it  follows  that  the  first  category  of 
objects  of  social  value,  comprises  these ;  namely,  the 
companion  or  socius,  companionship  or  association,  like- 
mindedness,  and  that  state  of  mind  which  has  been  called 
the  consciousness  of  kind.  These  are  the  ojbjects  for  1 
which  society  exists.  They  directly  yield  the  supreme 
satisfaction  of  the  social  relation.  All  other  social 
products,  all  forms  of  social  organization,  are  secondary 
objects  of  social  value,  because  they  are  merely  means  to 
the  attainment  of  ulterior  ends. 

1.  The  Socius. — The  supreme  object  of  social  value 
is  the  socius  or  the  group  of  socii.  A  man  may  value  his 
houses  and  lands  more  than  he  values  his  neighbours ;  but 
houses  and  lands  are  objects  primarily  of  economic  rather 
than  of  social  value.  In  the  social  category  there  is  noth- 
ing else  that  we  cherish  as  we  do  our  comrades,  friends, 
and  neighbours. 

2.  The  Qualities  of  the  Socius.  —  While  supremely 
valuing  our  associates  as  concrete  personalities,  by  a  pro- 
cess of  abstraction  we  learn  to  value  also  their  peculiar 
qualities.  Usually  we  lay  stress  on  qualities  that  espe- 
cially appeal  to  us  through  the  consciousness  of  kind.  If 
we  are  devoted  to  athletics,  we  value  that  passion  in  our 
companions.  If  we  are  artistic,  we  value  good  taste  and 
hate  Philistinism.  If  we  are  sympathetic,  we  value  kind- 
ness, and  an  unselfish  devotion  to  humanity. 

3.  The  Social  Type.  —  By  further  abstraction,  we  learn 
to  value  personal    qualities    collectively.      Having   taken 


1 62  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

aote  of  the  peculiarities  of  our  associates,  in  course  of 
time  we  combine  our  observations  in  a  complex  mental 
image  like  a  composite  photograph.  This  image  we  call 
a  type.  Next  to  the  socii  themselves  as  concrete  person- 
alities, communities  value  their  own  type  of  manhood  and 
social  nature.  This  valuation  of  type  is  a  chief  element 
in  what  is  called  national  prejudice.  It  is  humorously 
symbohzed  in  such  national  nicknames  as  "John  Bull," 
''Brother  Jonathan,"  and  "Uncle  Sam." 

4.  TJie  Pi'ef erred  Mode  of  Resemblance.  —  By  a  yet 
further  process  of  abstraction,  the  individual  or  the  com- 
munity, in  valuations  of  socii,  and  especially  of  peculiar 
and  typical  qualities,  commonly  lays  stress  on  some  one 
of  the  great  modes  of  resemblance.  That  which  is  chiefly 
valued  in  the  socius  may  be  the  resemblance  of  blood  or 
kinship,  as  happens  in  family  relationships,  where  attach- 
ment to  relatives  exists  in  consequence  of  kinship,  irre- 
spective of  all  other  reasons ;  or  it  may  be  mental  and 
moral  resemblance,  and  the  consequent  capacity  for 
cooperation  ;  or  yet  again,  it  may  be  the  potential  resem- 
blance which  is  the  foundation  of  so  large  a  proportion  of 
all  friendship  and  agreeable  acquaintance. 

5.  The  Ideal  Socius. — Every  individual  has  not  only 
his  actual  socii,  but  also  an  ideal  socius,  or  perhaps  ideal 
socii,  which,  at  a  very  early  age,  he  begins  to  create  in 
imagination.  Putting  together  traits  of  character  that 
please  him  in  his  actual  living  companions,  and  leaving 
out  traits  of  character  that  displease  him,  he  creates  ideal 
personalities  as  truly  as  any  novelist  or  dramatist  does, 
except  that  he  has  not  the  dramatist's  power  of  picturing 
them  to  the  imaginations  of  other  persons.  Experiments 
that   have  been  made  with  thousands  of  school  children 


Public  Opinion  and  Social   Values  163 

have  shown  that,  with  few  exceptions,  children  of  gram- 
mar  and  high  school  grades  have  well-defined  images  of 
ideal  characters  or  heroes  whom  they  desire  in  their  own 
personal  development  to  resemble,  0/  whom  they  hope 
to  find  in  some  measure  realized  in  actual  companions  to 
be  met  with  in  future  years.  Communities,  as  well  as 
individuals,  create  their  ideal  socii,  and  try  by  vari- 
ous means,  such  as  religious  and  secular  teaching,  and 
laws  forbidding  certain  kinds  of  conduct,  to  mould  the 
actual  members  of  society  into  semblance  of  the  ideal 
types. 

6.  Elements  of  Goodness.  —  In  creating  ideals  of  any 
kind,  whether  of  pleasures,  things,  or  persons,  the  mind 
proceeds  by  means  of  its  idea  of  a  quality  which  we  call 
goodness  or  the  good.  Goodness  is  a  quality  of  things, 
acts,  or  experiences,  which  appeals  to  the  judgment  rather 
than  to  sensation  or  emotion.  Among  possible  pleasures, 
there  are  some  of  which  the  judgment  may  not  approve. 
Goodness,  then,  is  not  coextensive  with  the  pleasing  or  the 
pleasure-giving.  The  good  consists  of  all  that  upon  which 
we  have  passed  a  critical  judgment  of  approval,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  utilities  that  we  accept  and  enjoy  un- 
critically. 

In  any  community  the  ruling  criteria  of  goodness  are 
derived  from  the  typical  qualities  of  the  population ;  and 
it  is  impossible  for  any  community  to  think  that  its  own 
traits  and  its  own  conduct  do  not,  in  some  measure,  realize 
its  conception  of  the  ideal  good. 

(i)  Power  and  Independence.  — In  this  idealizing  pro- 
cess, a  majority  of  all  human  beings  especially  value  power, 
both  physical,  and  mental  or  moral.  The  hero  of  the  aver- 
age man  is  the  person  of  great  physical  strength,  or  skill, 


164  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

or  courage ;  and  the  average  man  delights  in  the  intimate 
acquaintance  and  companionship  of  such  a  hero.  He 
wishes  himself  to  resemble  such  men  of  power;  and  he 
desires  that  the  community  to  which  he  belongs  shall  col- 
lectively manifest  this  quality.  In  literature,  the  noblest 
expressions  of  this  social  valuation  of  power  are  the  Ho- 
meric epics,  the  later  Greek  tragedies,  the  grim  Teutonic 
legends,  and  the  magnificent  sagas  of  the  North. 

(2)  Love  of  Pleasure.  —  The  characteristic  that  is  valued 
next  after  power,  and  by  almost  as  many  members  of  the 
community,  is  the  love  of  pleasure  and  the  capacity  for 
creating  and  enjoying  it.  Most  human  beings  delight  in 
the  companionship  of  those  who  love  a  good  time  and 
know  how  to  have  it.  The  man  who  can  make  fun  or 
provide  amusement,  and  who  has  the  power  to  arouse  an 
entire  company  to  mirth,  is  always  in  demand,  is  always 
admired,  and  is  always  an  example  widely  imitated.  This 
social  valuation  also  has  varied  expression  in  literature  — 
most  beautiful,  perhaps,  in  the  romance  and  poetry  of 
chivalry,  which  picture  a  ceaseless  round  of  tournaments 
and  bouts,  of  hunting  and  hawking,  of  feasting,  love-mak- 
ing, and  minstrelsy. 

(3)  Self-conservation.  —  A  smaller  proportion  of  man- 
kind, and  yet  an  enormous  number  in  the  aggregate, 
chiefly  value  those  moral  qualities  that  may  collectively  be 
spoken  of  as  self-restraint  or  self-conservation.  The  power 
to  be  temperate  in  all  things,  to  resist  temptation,  to  ab- 
stain with  rigid  self-denial  from  modes  or  degrees  of  pleas- 
ure that  often  result  in  injury,  is  a  trait  of  character  vastly 
admired  by  a  portion  of  mankind,  and  is  chiefly  sought  for 
in  the  selection  of  companions  and  in  the  efforts  that  are 
made  to  mould  the  characters  of  the  members  of  the  com- 


Public  Opinion  and  Social  Values  165 

munity.  This  particular  form  of  social  valuation  is  known 
in  history  as  Puritanism.  Its  highest  literary  expression  is 
found  in  the  "Divine  Comedy"  of  Dante  and  the  "Para- 
dise Lost "  of  Milton. 

(4)  Self-realization.  —  Yet  fewer,  a  small  minority  in 
fact  of  all  mankind,  are  those  who  chiefly  value  that  keen- 
visioned  and  rational  personality  which,  with  wide  outlook 
upon  the  world,  strives  for  the  complete  realization  of  all 
the  nobler  possibilities  of  life.  The  mind  that  appreciates 
the  worth  of  all  bodily  powers,  mental  capacities,  and 
moral  virtues  that  belong  to  the  individual  human  being, 
that  strives  to  perfect  a  well-rounded  nature,  giving  as  far 
as  possible  full  play  to  every  faculty,  realizing  that  the 
supreme  object  of  life  is  the  highest  possible  development 
of  personality,  the  intellectual  sympathy  that  desires  this 
larger  life  for  all  men,  and  the  faith  that  holds  it  possible, 
—  these  belong  to  an  ideal  personality  which,  in  the  nature 
of  things,  appeals  only  to  the  thoughtful  few.  Neverthe- 
less, to  the  few  at  all  times  and,  in  a  progressive  civili- 
zation, to  an  increasing  proportion  of  all  men,  it  is  the 
supreme  object  of  social  value.  In  literature,  this  noblest 
valuation  finds  its  loftiest  expression  in  the  writings  of 
Petrarch,  Goethe,  and  Robert  Browning. 

7.  Heroes^  Saints^  and  Gods.  —  In  every  community  the 
qualities  of  the  actual  or  ideal  type  that  most  strongly 
appeal  to  a  majority  of  the  population  are  typified  in  cer- 
tain heroes  whose  characters  are  sure  to  approach  more 
and  more  closely  to  the  ideal  type  as  the  years  go  by,  and 
imagination,  legend,  and  poetry  do  their  work,  of  eliminat- 
ing from  the  mental  picture  all  those  elements  that  are  in- 
consistent with  the  ideal,  and  of  heightening  those  that  are 
most  characteristic  of  it.     The  military  heroes,  the  states- 


1 66  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

men,  poets,  and  even  men  of  science  who  have  won  re- 
nown invariably  become  to  popular  belief  the  typical 
embodiments  of  the  moral  qualities  chiefly  valued  in  the 
community.  The  same  is  true  of  religious  saints,  and 
among  savage  and  barbarian  peoples  of  those  gods  that 
are  supposed  to  be  the  surviving  spirits  of  tribal  chieftains 
once  formidable  in  their  earthly  life. 

Secondary  Values. — We  will  more  briefly  notice  those 
objects  of  social  value  that  belong  to  the  second  class  or 
category ;  those,  namely,  that  are  means  to  the  mainten- 
ance and  development  of  the  socii,  or  to  the  creation  of 
ideal  socii,  or  to  the  perfection  of  those  relations  of  com- 
panionship which  are  the  immediate  source  of  social 
pleasure. 

First  in  this  second  category  of  objects  of  social  value 
is  always  placed  that  social  cohesion  which  is  necessary  to 
the  maintenance  of  the  social  system  with  all  the  benefits 
that  it  confers.  So  great  is  the  valuation  of  social  unity 
that  whenever  the  natural  means  of  social  cohesion  in  the 
form  of  spontaneous  sympathy,  agreement  in  opinion^  or 
loyalty  are  lacking,  artificial  means,  even  of  the  most 
questionable  character,  are  invariably  resorted  to.  States 
threatened  with  disruption,  and  even  parties  and  sects  in 
similar  circumstances,  have  rarely  failed  to  resort  to  co- 
ercion, bribery,  and  patronage  as  means  of  maintaining 
a  failing  social  cohesion. 

The  social  cohesion,  by  whatever  means  maintained, 
acts  upon  the  type  or  kind  of  character  prevalent  in  the 
community,  in  other  words,  upon  the  type  of  socius,  through 
various  yet  more  remote  means,  among  which  are  included 
possessions,  customs,  laws,  and  institutions.  All  these, 
therefore,   are   objects   of    social   value.      They   may   be 


Public  Opinion  and  Social   Values  167 

divided  into  two  chief  groups.  One  group  includes  heri. 
tages,  that  is,  possessions,  customs,  and  institutions,  that 
have  descended  from  former  generations.  The  .other 
group  ipcludes  all  laws  and  institutions  that  are  in  the 
liatiife  of  innovations  or  experiments. 

Laws  of  Social  Choice.  —  Social  values  are  the  grounds  of 
rational  social  choice,  and  of  all  action  of  the  social  will 
that  is  deliberate  rather  than  impulsive. 

There  have  been  writers  on  Sociology  who  have  denied 
that  masses  of  men  ever  act  rationally.  They  have  argued 
that  as  men  differ  less  in  feeling  than  in  intelligence,  and 
as  men  in  crowds  are  peculiarly  susceptible  to  emotion 
and  suggestion,  the  intellectual  processes  have,  under  such 
circumstances,  very  little  opportunity  to  manifest  them- 
selves. 

Nevertheless,  there  is  abundant  historical  proof  that 
communities  do  oftentimes  arrive  at  rational  decisions, 
after  many  years  of  persistent  discussion  of  the  merits  of 
the  question.  Among  excellent  examples  have  been  most 
of  the  amendments  to  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States,  and  to  the  constitutions  of  the  several  common- 
wealths. 

The  Essential  Condition  of  deliberate  social  decision  is 
the  alternation  of  meeting  and  discussion  with  separation. 
The  crowd  must  occasionally  disperse.  Its  individual 
members  must  be  brought  under  new  influences.  This 
truth  is  simply  a  more  complicated  case  of  that  psycho- 
logical law,  already  noted,  that  rational  thinking  consists 
in  the  interposition  of  new  ideas  between  stimulation 
and  the  consequent  muscular  action.  The  tendency  of  the 
crowd,  as  we  have  seen,  is  to  react  instantly  as  a  unit  upon 
any   suggestion,  just   as  the  tendency  of  the  non-rationa. 


1 68  The  Ele^nents  of  Sociology 

man  is  to  expend  his  nervous  energy  in  reflex  action.  In 
the  individual,  this  process  is  interrupted  by  any  new  idea 
or  suggestion.  In  the  crowd,  it  is  interrupted  when  dis- 
persion and  separation  bring  the  individual  members  under 
new  influences. 

When  the  conditions  favourable  to  rational  social  choice 
exist,  the  choice  itself  is  determined  by  the  scale  of  social 
values,  just  as  individual  choices  are  determined  by  the 
scale  of  ethical  and  economic  values  in  individual  minds. 

The  Law  of  Preference. — So  long  as  the  majority  of 
men  chiefly  value  the  primitive  virtues  of  power,  indepen- 
dence, courage,  and  ability  in  every  form,  it  is  evident  that 
rational  social  choice  must  more  often  than  not  turn  upon 
this  particular  object  of  social  esteem.  In  like  manner, 
the  least  influential  object  in  determining  social  choice  is 
that  rational  self-realization  which  appeals  only  to  the  few. 

Consequently,  we  have  the  first  law  of  rational  social 
choice,  the  law  of  preference  of  ends  to  be  achieved,  as 
follows : 

In  all  social  choice^  the  most  influential  ideal  is  that  of 
personal  force  or  of  virtue  in  the  original  sense  ;  the  second 
in  ijiflucnce  is  the  hedonistic  or  utilitarian  idealy  namely^ 
the  ideal  of  pleasure ;  the  third  is  self-conservation,  or  the 
Puritan  ideal ;  the  least  influential  is  the  ideal  of  self- 
realization  or  self  development.  But  if  mental  evolution 
continues,  the  higher  ideals  become  increasingly  influential. 

The  Law  of  Combination  and  of  Means.  —  A  second  law 
governing  social  choices  is  the  law  of  combination  and  of 
the  choice  of  means. 

While  a  population,  like  an  individual,  shows  marked 
preferences  in  its  estimation  of  the  qualities  of  the  ideal 
socius  or  community,  and  in  its  estimation  of  ends  to  be 


Public  Opinion  and  Social  Values  169 

achieved,  in  real  life  it  is  always  necessary  to  make  many 
combinations  of  choices,  many  modifications,  and  to  decide 
upon*  the  l^st  means  of  realizing  the  preferred  ends.  In 
these  attempts  to  make  combinations  and  to  select  means, 
certain  characteristics  of  choice  appear  which  we  are  in 
the  habit  of  speaking  of  as  conservative  or  radical.  Some 
communities,  like  individuals,  are  loath  to  displace  one 
object  of  value  by  another,  to  disturb  existing  relations,  or 
to  resort  to  any  extreme  means  in  order  to  achieve  desired 
ends.  Other  communities,  like  individuals  of  a  different 
type,  are  eager  to  sweep  away  the  old,  to  indulge  in  radical 
experiment,  or  resort  to  any  means  that  promises  suc- 
cess. These  tendencies,  however,  are  not  fortuitous : 
they  are  strictly  governed  by  law. 

To  make  this  clear,  it  is  necessary  to  begin  with  an  ex- 
planation of  a  simple  case. 

In  choosing  our  pleasures,  we  have  to  modify  some 
indulgences  so  that  they  will  combine  well  with  others ; 
or,  failing  to  do  that,  we  have  to  sacrifice  some  pleasures 
altogether.  As  a  rule,  many  moderate  pleasures  that 
combine  well  will  make  up  a  larger  total  of  satisfaction 
than  a  few  pleasures,  each  of  which  is  intense.  Therefore, 
it  is  necessary  to  correct  each  subjective  value  as  indi- 
vidually considered,  by  reference  to  its  probable  relation  to 
other  values. 

Again,  in  subjective  valuations  by  the  individual,  imme- 
diate good  is  not  necessarily  the  only  element  considered. 
Further  corrections  may  be  made  for  the  future  good  or  ill 
that  must  result  from  the  choice  contemplated,  including 
reactions  on  the  personality,  the  self-development,  and  the 
self-activity  of  the  chooser. 

As  soon  as  the  individual  has  acquired  the  intellectual 


170  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

power  to  make  such  corrections,  he  attempts  to  bring  his 
subjective  values  into  a  consistent  whole;  but  the  compo- 
sition of  the  whole,  and  his  success  in  making  it  harmoni- 
ous throughout,  depend  very  much  upon  his  own  experi- 
ences. If  his  experiences  have  been  of  few  kinds,  and 
each  has  often  been  repeated,  his  consciousness  has  be- 
come identified  with  a  total  of  subjective  values  that  is 
thoroughly  consistent  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  that  is  very 
simple  in  its  make-up.  His  few  pleasures  are  relatively 
intense,  and  he  pursues  each  further  than  he  would  if  they 
were  varied. 

Suppose,  now,  that  some  new  element  or  new  mode  of 
good  is  introduced  into  his  life — a  new  pleasure,  more 
intense  than  any  that  he  has  hitherto  enjoyed ;  or  that 
suddenly  he  sees  opened  to  him  possibilities  of  many  new 
modes  of  good  which,  however,  are  more  or  less  incompati- 
ble with  those  to  which  he  has  been  accustomed.  His 
group  of  subjective  values  becomes  at  once  larger  and 
more  complex  than  it  was  before,  but  also  less  organized. 
A  long  time  will  elapse  before  the  readjustment  is  made. 
It  will  involve  many  sacrifices  and  self-denials.  Mean- 
while, the  chances  are  that  he  will  choose  crudely  and 
radically.  He  will  substitute  oftener  than  he  will  com- 
bine. He  will  destroy  when  he  might  conserve.  He  will 
go  wholly  over  to  the  new  way  of  life,  enjoying  as  before 
a  few  modes  of  experience  intensely,  instead  of  learning 
that  he  might  get  a  greater  total  of  satisfaction  from  a 
large  number  of  less  intense  experiences  harmoniously  put 
together. 

Let  these  principles  now  be  applied  to  a  population.  It 
is  usual  to  speak  of  the  elements,  modes,  and  means  of 
good  collectively  as  interests.      A  population   map  of  a 


Public  Opinion  and  Social  Values  171 

country  may  be  made,  showing  the  distribution  of  the 
people  according  to  their  interests.  In  one  region  is  dis- 
covered a  marked  predojpinance  of  those  who  have  lived 
for  generations  in  a  circumscribed  way  —  the  people  of 
narrow  experiences  and  of  few  interests.  In  another 
region  are  discovered  large  numbers  of  those  who  have 
suddenly  found  themselves  face  to  face  with  possibilities  of 
which  they  had  not  dreamed.  Elsewhere  are  discovered 
those  who  have  so  long  enjoyed  varied  experiences  and 
have  cultivated  manifold  interests  that  their  subjective 
values  make  up  totals  that  are  highly  complex  and  yet, 
at  the  same  time,  harmonious. 

The  people  of  these  different  regions  in  their  industry, 
their  law-making,  their  educational  and  religious  under- 
takings, and  their  organization  of  institutions,  choose, 
select,  or  decide,  strictly  in  accordance  with  the  mental 
characteristics  that  these  different  experiences  have  de- 
veloped. 

The  law  of  combination  and  of  means  which  their 
choices  exemplify  is  as  follows : 

A  population  that  has  only  a  feiv  interests^  which,  how- 
ever,  are  harmoniously  combined,  is  conservative  in  its 
choices.  A  popidation  that  has  varied  interests,  which  are 
as  yet  inharmonious ly  combined,  is  radical  in  its  choices. 
Only  the  population  that  has  many,  varied,  and  harmoni- 
ously combined  interests  is  consistently  progressive  in  its 
choices.  — 

PARALLEL    STUDY 

Read  Bryce's  "American  Commonwealth,"  Part  IV.  From  news- 
paper almanacs,  obtain  political  party  platforms,  and  analyze  them  wita 
reference  to  social  values. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
Social  Organization 

Two  Causes  of  Organization.  —  Many  of  the  activities  in 
which  individuals  combine  their  efforts  are  continued  or 
repeated  until  they  have  become  habitual.  The  coopera- 
tion that  is  seen  in  industry,  in  military  operations,  and 
in  government  is  a  series,  not  of  occasional  or  haphazard 
undertakings,  but  of  activities  that  are  both  systematic 
and  continuous. 

In  carrying  on  systematic  activities  of  cooperation,  dif- 
ferent individuals  sustain  relatively  permanent  relations 
to  one  another.  For  example,  for  years  together,  two  or 
more  men  may  conduct  business  in  partnership ;  the  re- 
lation of  partnership  may  become  habitual  to  them.  The 
same  private  soldiers  for  years  together  obey  the  same 
officers.  Certain  families  for  generations  live  as  friendly 
neighbours  to  one  another  in  the  same  village.  Villages, 
towns,  and  counties  continue  to  maintain  that  combina- 
tion of  interests  which  we  call  a  state  or  commonwealth ; 
and  the  same  commonwealths  continue  to  maintain  that 
union  which  we  call  a  federal  nation.  These  habitual  rela- 
tions of  the  members  of  a  society  to  one  another,  and 
these  persistent  forms  of  cooperative  activity,  are  collec- 
tively called  the  social  organization. 

The  social  organization  is  produced  by  two  distinct  sets 
of  causes  acting  in  combination. 

172 


Social  Organization  173 

The  relations  themselves  that  men  sustain  to  one  an- 
other, and  the  forms  of  cooperative  activity,  spring  up  as 
a  result  of  individual  suggestion  and  practical  convenience. 
Relations  that  are  accidentally  formed  prove  to  be  interest- 
ing, agreeable,  and  useful,  and  are  therefore  permanently 
maintained.  Forms  of  cooperation  that  are  invented  for  a 
temporary  purpose  prove  to  be  so  successful  that  they  too 
are  persisted  in.  In  all  this  we  see  nothing  but  the  spon- 
taneous action  of  resembling  and  sympathetic  minds  pur- 
suing their  own  immediate  practical  interests.  The  social 
mind,  or  concurrent  intelligence  of  the  community,  has 
not  been  the  original  creative  power. 

When,  however,  these  spontaneously  formed  features  of 
social  organization  have  become  so  well  established  or  so 
conspicuous  that  they  challenge  the  attention  of  every 
member  of  the  community,  the  social  mind  begins  to  re- 
flect upon  them.  They  become  subjects  of  public  discus- 
sion and  of  general  approval  or  disapproval.  Subjected 
then  to  analysis  and  criticism,  they  are  finally  pronounced 
good,  or  evil,  or  doubtful,  by  the  concurrent  opinion  of  the 
society.  Their  further  development  is  then  tolerated  or 
encouraged,  or  they  are  stamped  out,  and  the  individuals 
who  attempt  to  maintain  them  are  punished. 

Thus,  for  example,  many  different  forms  of  family 
organization  have,  from  time  to  time,  appeared  in  the 
world.  There  have  been  not  only  monogamous  families, 
formed  by,  the  marriage  of  one  man  and  one  woman,  but 
polyandrous'  families,  consisting  of  one  wife  with  two  or 
more  husbands,  and  polygynous  families,  consisting  of 
one  husband  with  two  or  more  wives.  In  the  course  of 
time,  civilized  communities  have  come  to  disapprove  of  all 
forms  of  family  organization  except  the  monogamic,  and 


174  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

to  prohibit  both  polyandrian  and  polygynous  forms.  The 
United  States,  after  tolerating  for  many  years  the  polygy- 
nous Mormon  communities  of  Utah,  positively  forbade 
polygamy  within  the  territories  of  the  United  States,  and 
took  rigorous  measures  to  stamp  it  out. 

Another  excellent  example  of  the  action  of  the  social 
mind  upon  the  social  organization  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
organization  of  the  state  and  of  the  form  of  government. 
The  state,  as  it  slowly  develops  through  military  and 
legal  activity,  may  assume  any  one  of  the  great  historical 
forms  of  monarchy  or  republic.  In  course  of  time,  how- 
ever, the  forms  of  government  are  subjected  to  a  thorough- 
going analysis  and  criticism  in  public  discussion,  and  the 
community  arrives  at  a  decision  to  establish  firmly,  and  to 
perpetuate,  certain  forms  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others. 

Once  more,  the  forms  of  business  organization  that  now 
prevail  in  civilized  communities  are  products  of  the  double 
process  that  has  been  described.  They  have  sprung  up 
spontaneously  ;  but  having  come  into  existence,  they  have 
challenged  social  attention  and  public  opinion,  and  have 
finally  been  formally  authorized,  defined,  and  limited,  by 
statute  law  and  the  decisions  of  courts. 

In  both  of  these  processes  through  which  social  organi- 
zation is  created,  the  essential  basis  of  organization  is  like- 
mindedness,  the  agreement  of  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of 
many  individuals  which  makes  practical  cooperation  possi- 
ble. All  social  organization,  accordingly,  is  an  expression 
of  like-mindedness  in  the  population.  As  will  be  ex- 
plained presently,  peculiarities  in  the  development  of  social 
organization  are  to  be  accounted  for  partly  by  the  passion 
of  like-minded  people  to  perfect  and  extend  like-mindedness 
itself ;  that  is,   to  make  the  community  more  and  more 


Social  Organization  175 

homogeneous  in  mental  and  moral  qualities ;  partly  by  a 
developing  appreciation  of  the  value  of  unlike-mindedness 
as  a  means  of  variation  and  progress,  and  partly  by  the 
combination  and  reconciliation  of  these  two  motives. 

Forms  of  Organization.  —  Social  organization  assumes 
certain  great  forms  in  every  society,  and  these,  some  of 
which  were  briefly  defined  in  the  first  chapter,  must  now 
be  more  fully  described. 

InstitiUions.  —  The  first  distinction  to  be  made  among 
social  forms  is  one  that  follows  directly  from  the  foregoing 
account  of  the  double  origin  of  organization.  It  is  the 
distinction  between  those  social  arrangements  that  are 
institutions  and  those  that  are  not.  There  is  no  word  in 
any  language  that  is  more  carelessly  used  by  writers  who 
should  know  better  than  this  word  "institutions."  An  in- 
stitution is  a  social  relation  that  is  established  by  adequate 
and  rightful  authority.  The  ultimate  source  of  authority 
in  society  is  the  social  mind.  Consequently,  those  forms 
of  organization,  those  relations  and  arrangemeiits  which 
the  social  mind  has  reflected  upon,  which  it  has  accepted, 
allowed,  or  commanded,  —  and  those  only,  —  are  institu- 
tions. A  band  of  robbers  may  be  an  organization,  but  it 
is  not  an  institution.  The  social  arrangements  of  a  com- 
munity of  savages  are  modes  of  organization,  but  they  are 
not  institiftions.  The  historical  rise  of  institutions  will  be 
explained  in  the  chaf)ter  on  Civilization. 

The  Social,  Composition.  —  In  every  community  that  is 
larger  than  a  single  family,  there  is  a  grouping  of  indi- 
viduals that  brings  together  both  sexes  and  all  ages  in 
those  small  organizations  that  we  call  families,  brings 
families  together  in  villages,  towns,  or  cities ;  brings  towns 
or  cities  together  in  provinces,  departments,  or  common- 


1/6  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

wealths,  and  combines  the  latter  in  national  states.  This 
plan  of  organization  may  be  called  the  social  composition 
Its  chief  characteristic  is  the  capacity  of  each  of  the  com- 
ponent groups,  whether  it  be  a  commonwealth,  a  city,  or 
merely  a  family,  to  live  an  independent  life  and  perpetuate 
human  society  if  it  were  cut  off  from  relations  with  all 
other  communities  in  the  world.  Containing,  as  each 
component  group  does,  both  sexes  and  individuals  of  more 
than  one  generation,  it  has  all  the  elements  necessary  for 
the  perpetuation  of  the  race,  and  therefore  for  the  growth 
of  population  and  for  the  evolution  of  social  relations. 

The  Social  Constitution.  —  A  very  different  form  of 
grouping  and  organization,  found  in  each  component 
society  larger  than  a  single  family,  may  be  called  the 
social  constitution.  This  is  an  organization  of  the  indi- 
vidual members  of  the  community  into  associations,  or 
groups  for  carrying  on  special  forms  of  activity,  or  main- 
taining particular  interests.  Such  associations  are  busi- 
ness partnerships  and  corporations,  political  parties, 
churches,  philanthropic  societies,  schools,  universities, 
and  scientific  associations.  Each  of  these  groupings 
may  be  called  a  constituent  society;  and  it  is  obvious 
that  constituent  societies — which  more  often  than  not 
include  individuals  of  one  sex  only,  though  not  necessarily 
so,  and  are  organized  only  for  the  special  purpose  of 
carrying  on  some  form  of  business,  political,  or  intellectual 
activity  —  have  in  themselves  no  natural  power  of  self- 
perpetuation,  and  can  exist,  therefore,  only  as  subdivisions 
of  component  societies. 

Public  and  Private  Organization. —  Social  organization 
may  be  further  described  as  public  or  private.  All  compo- 
nent   societies,    except   families   and  unincorporated   vil- 


^  Social  Organization  177 

lages,  are  public  organizations.  Most  constituent  societies 
are  private  organizations.  Cliief  among  exceptions  is  the 
state,  or  supreme  political  organization. 

It  is  not  an  easy  matter  to  define  tbe  exact  difference 
between  public  and  private  organization.  The  difference 
is  a  legal  one,  and  cannot  be  perfectly  understood  without 
some  knowledge  of  legal  principles.  Essentially,  however, 
it  lies  in  the  right  to  put  in  motion  the  coercive  power  of 
the  state.  The  public  organization,  on  the  one  hand,  can 
do  this  directly  of  its  own  will.  For  example,  a  munici- 
pality is  a  public  organization  that  has  received  from 
the  state  the  authority  to  organize  a  police,  to  make 
arrests,  and  to  use  force  in  other  ways  if  necessary  to 
maintain  public  order.  All  this  it  can  do  in  virtue  of  the 
authority  originally  conferred  upon  it,  without  being 
obliged,  when  the  emergency  arises,  to  ask  special 
permission  or  seek  the  special  assistance  of  any  higher 
power.  The  private  organization,  on  the  other  hand,  can 
put  the  coercive  power  of  the  state  in  motion  only  indi- 
rectly. If  it  requires  the  assistance  of  legal  or  military 
force,  it  can  obtain  it  only  by  applying  to  a  court  or  to 
some  public  executive  authority. 

Incorporated  and  Unincorporated  Organizations.  —  Social 
organizations  are  yet  further  to  be  described  as  incorpo- 
rated or  unincorporated.  The  incorporated  organization  is 
one  that  has  been  created  by  the  authority  of  the  state. 
Its  plan  of  organization  has  been  described  by  law;  its 
powers  have  been  fixed  by  law,  and  likewise  its  respon- 
sibilities. The  incorporated  organization  may  be  either 
public  or  private.  Municipalities  are  public  organizations; 
manufacturing  and  trading  companies  are  private  organi- 
zations.    A  further  characteristic  of  private  corporations 


178  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

» 
usually  is  a  limited  liability  of  their  individual  members. 
It  is  usual,  in  manufacturing  and  trading  corporations,  to 
fix  an  individual  liability  for  indebtedness  to  the  amount 
of  the  individual's  stock  or  ownership,  or  of  some  multiple 
thereof.  When  this  limit  has  been  fixed  by  law,  it  cannot 
be  exceeded.  In  a  private  partnership,  on  the  other  hand, 
each  partner  is  individually  liable  for  all  the  debts  of  the 
business. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  will  be  seen  that  unincor- 
porated organizations  are  private  associations.  A  village, 
if  unincorporated,  is  merely  a  private  body.  It  has  not 
received  from  the  state  any  legal  definition  or  grant  of 
power,  and  therefore  it  has  no  right,  of  its  own  volition, 
to  put  the  coercive  machinery  of  the  state  into  operation. 
It  can  do  so  only  through  the  mediation  of  courts  or  other 
public  authorities.  Not  all  incorporated  bodies,  however, 
are  public  organizations.  Most  business  corporations  are 
private  organizations.  Yet  more  numerous  are  the  private 
organizations  that  are  unincorporated.  In  civilized  com- 
munities innumerable  societies  for  all  conceivable  purposes 
have  no  legal  status,  and  depend  entirely  upon  the  volun- 
tary support  of  their  individual  members.  Trade  unions 
are  among  the  best  examples  that  can  be  mentioned  of 
such  associations. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Read  Spencer^s  "Principles  of  Sociology,"  Volume  I,  Part  II,  Chap- 
ters VI,  VII,  VIII,  and  IX.  In  Lalor's  "Cyclopaedia  of  Political 
Science,"  read  Thomas  M.  Cooley^s  article,  "Corporations,  Law  of." 


CHAPTER  Xyil 

Component  Societies 

Resemblance  in  Component  Societies.  —  A  component  society 
is  wholly  or  partly  a  genetic  aggregation.  The  smaller 
component  groups,  including  families  and  sometimes  vil- 
lages, may  be  products  of  genetic  aggregation  only. 
Such  larger  component  societies  as  cities  and  common- 
wealths are  products  of  genetic  aggregation  and  congre- 
gation together. 

Therefore,  to  some  extent,  the  members  of  a  compo- 
nent society  are  of  one  blood.  They  share  also  as  much 
mental  and  moral  resemblance  as  is  necessary  for  prac- 
tical cooperation.  If  they  are  of  widely  different  origins, 
their  potential  resemblance  enables  them,  through  assimi- 
lation, to  approach  a  common  type.  Thus,  in  many  par- 
ticulars, the  members  of  a  component  society  are  alike, 
and  they  have  the  consciousness  of  kind.  Otherwise, 
the  group  as  a  social  produce  could  not  exist. 

In  other  particulars,  however,  the  members  of  a  com- 
ponent society  are  unlike.  In  addition  to  differences  of 
sex  and  age,^  and,  in  the  larger  groups,  of  nationality, 
there  are  differences  of  ability,  character,  and  taste. 

By  careful  observation  it  is  possible  to  discover  what 
resemblances  are  essential  in  a  component  society  and 
what  differences  are  tolerated.  Tribal  component  socie- 
ties insist  upon  kinship.     Civil  component  societies  highly 

179 


i8o  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

value  a  common  blood,  but  do  not  demand  it;  instead, 
they  require  potential  likeness.  All  component  societies 
require  mental  and  moral  likeness,  but,  within  the  limits 
of  common  morality,  none  insists  upon  any  one  point  of 
mental  or  moral  similarity  so  long  as  the  aggregate  of 
resemblances  remains  large  and  varied.  Subject  to  these 
conditions,  the  mental  and  moral  differences  among  the 
members  of  a  component  society  may  be  of  any  imagina- 
ble kind.  So  far,  then,  as  mental  and  moral  traits  are 
concerned,  no  particular  resemblance,  but  the  amount  of 
resemblance,  —  the  number  and  variety  of  points  of  re- 
semblance,—  is  characteristic  of   the  component  society. 

Of  course,  the  apparent  amount  of  resemblance  that 
we  find  among  the  members  of  a  component  society  de- 
pends upon  the  standard  of  measurement  that  we  adopt. 
Likeness  and  unlikeness,  it  is  not  useless  to  repeat,  are 
purely  relative  terms.  As  compared  with  the  difference 
between  an  Englishman  and  a  Chinaman,  the  English- 
man and  the  German  are  alike ;  while  as  compared  with 
the  difference  between  two  Englishmen,  the  Englishman 
and  the  German  are  unlike. 

For  scientific  purposes,  there  are  two  standards  of 
comparison  that  should  be  referred  to  in  observing  the 
amount  of  resemblance  among  the  members  of  a  com- 
ponent society.  It  will  be  remembered  that  a  component 
society  is  always  a  part  of  a  larger  community  which  has 
been  called  an  integral  society.  The  city  is  merely  one 
part  of  the  state  or  commonweath,  and  the  commonwealth, 
merely  one  part  of  the  nation.  If,  then,  we  take  the 
amount  of  resemblance  existing  among  all  members  of 
the  integral  society  as  a  basis  of  comparison,  we  discover 
that  the  members  of  the  component  society  have  a  greater 


Component  Societies  i8i 

amount  of  resemblance.  The  members  of  the  smali.  group 
are  on  the  whole  more  alike  than  are  all  the  members  of 
the  group  of  groups  taken  together.  There  is  more  re- 
semblance among  the  people  of  Ohiof  or  of  Illinois,  or 
of  Minnesota  than  there  is  among  all  the  people  of  the 
United  States  collectively.  From  this  point  of  view, 
then,  the  members  of  a  component  society  have  a  rela- 
tively greater  amount  of  resemblance. 

Let  us,  however,  make  another  comparison.  Forming 
as  well  as  we  can  a  mental  image  of  the  entire  people 
of  a  certain  town  in  a  particular  state,  Massachusetts,  for 
example,  let  us  form  another  mental  image  as  clear  as 
possible  of  all  the  people  of  another  town  in  the  same 
state  and  of  about  the  same  dimensions.  These  two 
mental  images  we  discover  are  very  closely  alike.  That 
is  to  say,  the  people  of  these  two  towns,  when  each 
group  is  taken  collectively,  are  seen  to  be  of  the  same 
race  and  speech,  to  have  each  about  the  same  propor- 
tion of  farmers,  tradesmen,  mechanics,  and  professional 
men,  to  have  the  same  religious  beliefs,  and  the  same 
political  preferences.  Nevertheless,  in  each  town  we  find 
men  of  widely  different  political  preferences,  widely  dif- 
ferent religious  beliefs,  most  unlike  occupations,  and  of 
different  nationalities.  We  discover,  then,  that  one  com- 
ponent society,  conceived  in  its  entirety,  is  in  type  more 
like  another  of  similar  size  and  composition,  and  a  part 
of  the  same  integral  society,  than  the  individual  members 
of  either  are  like  one  another  in  character.  As  com- 
pared, then,  with  the  amount  of  resemblance  manifested 
by  the  population  of  an  integral  society,  the  members  of 
a  component  society  are  alike ;  as  compared  with  the 
amount  of  resemblance  between  one  component   society 


1 82  The  El  erne  Jits  of  Sociology 

and  another,   the  members  of   a  component  society  are 
unlike. 

This  distinction  may  seem  to  be  of  a  merely  formal  or 
theoretical  significance,  and  to  have  little  practical  im- 
portance. Such,  however,  is  not  the  truth.  The  dis- 
tinction has  played  a  very  great  practical  part  in  historical 
development.  In  what  way  this  has  happened  will  appear 
presently  in  the  chapter  on  Civilization. 

One  practical  fact,  moreover,  must  be  pointed  out 
now.  Since  each  component  group  has  the  same  char- 
acteristics as  any  other  group  of  similar  composition  and 
dimensions,  and  lives  in  much  the  same  way,  it  follows 
that  component  societies  mutually  aid  each  other  only 
in  power  and  mass,  and  not  by  a  division  of  labour.  The 
combination  of  two  or  more  commonwealths  in  a  federal 
union  produces  a  more  powerful  state,  precisely  as  the 
combination  of  two  or  more  regiments  of  infantry  pro- 
duces a  more  powerful  fighting  force.  The  advantage, 
moreover,  is  purely  one  of  power  and  mass,  and  not  of 
the  sort  that  is  derived  by  combining  infantry  with  artil- 
lery and  cavalry.  The  advantages  due  to  a  division  of 
labour  we  owe  entirely  to  the  organization  of  constituent 
societies,  to  be  described  in  the  next  chapter. 

A  further  and  more  refined  distinction  has  yet  to  be 
made.  While  two  component  societies  of  the  same  grade 
are  more  nearly  alike  in  type  than  the  individual  members 
of  either  are  in  character,  the  individual  members  of  either 
are  more  like  one  another  than  they  are  like  the  individual 
members  of  any  other  group.  The  proof  of  this  is  that 
so  long  as  perfect  freedom  to  go  from  place  to  place  and 
to  choose  one's  residence  exists,  families  or  individuals 
that  find  themselves  out  of  sympathy  with  the  population 


Component  Societies  183 

in  which  they  happen  to  dwell  are  in  the  habit  of  going 
elsewhere  and  seeking  more  congenial  neighbours.  From 
this  fact  follows  a  sociological  truth  of  great  significance. 
In  the  growth  of  a  component  society,,.there  may  always 
be  discovered  a  sifting  and  segregating  process  which  is 
tending  to  bring  together  the  potentially  alike,  to  convert 
potential  into  actual  resemblance,  and  to  eliminate  those 
inharmonious  elements  that  cannot  be  reconciled  with  the 
prevailing  type  of  character  and  habit. 

Consequently,  in  the  component  society,  there  is  always 
found  a  persistent  tendency  towards  homogeneity.  With 
respect  to  mental  and  moral  likeness,  however,  this  ten- 
dency takes  the  form  of  a  multiplication  of  the  points  of 
resemblance  rather  than  of  insistence  upon  any  one  point 
in  particular. 

Forms  of  Component  Societies.  —  From  these  general 
characteristics  of  component  societies,  we  must  now  pass 
on  to  a  more  detailed  description  and  analysis.  In  this 
description  it  will  be  necessary,  for  the  sake  of  complete- 
ness, to  include  an  account  of  savage  and  barbarian 
groups,  as  well  as  of  the  component  societies  of  civilized 
states. 

Families  are  the  simplest  component  societies.  All 
human  beings,  from  the  lowest  savages  to  civilized  men, 
live  in  family  groups.  But  these  groups  are  by  no  means 
always  of  the  kind  that  we  are  familiar  with  in  civilized 
lands.  The  simplest  form  of  the  human  family  is  a  pair- 
ing arrangemeht  of  short  duration.  Among  the  Mincopis 
of  the  Andaman  Islands,  it  is  customary  for  the  father 
to  live  with  the  mother  until  after  their  child  is  weaned, 
and  then  to  seek  another  wife.  A  similar  arrangement, 
somewhat  more  stable,  but  seldom  of  lifelong  duration,  is 


184  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

found  among  the  Blackfellows  of  Australia,  the  northern 
Eskimo  of  Greenland,  and  the  Amazonian  Indians  of 
Brazil. 

The  polyandrian  family,  in  which  a  woman  has  several 
husbands,  is  usually  found  among  tribes  that  have  passed 
beyond  the  lowest  savagery  into  the  somewhat  higher 
stage  of  barbarism.  There  are  two  well-marked  types 
of  polyandry,  known  respectively  as  Tibetan  and  Nair. 
In  Tibetan  polyandry,  so  called  because  it  has  been  most 
carefully  studied  in  Tibet,  the  husbands  are  brothers. 
This  is  the  commoner  form.  In  Nair  polyandry,  which 
takes  its  name  from  a  district  of  southeastern  India,  the 
woman's  husbands  are  not  related.  Polyandry  existed 
until  recently  in  Ceylon,  in  New  Zealand,  in  New  Cale- 
donia, and  elsewhere  in  the  Pacific  Islands.  It  is  still 
found  in  the  Aleutian  Islands,  and  in  many  places  in 
central  and  northern  Asia.  It  was  formerly  common 
among  the  Indian  tribes  on  the  Orinoco  and  in  the  Canary 
Islands.  Traces  of  it  still  remain  among  the  Hottentots 
of  South  Africa,  the  Damaras,  the  mountain  tribes  of  the 
Bantu,  and  the  Hovas  of  Madagascar.  Polyandry  for- 
merly prevailed  among  the  Picts  and  the  Irish ;  and  there 
are  abundant  evidences  of  its  former  existence  in  other 
Aryan  stocks,  and  throughout  the  Semitic  and  Hamitic 
races. 

When  the  Hawaiian  Islands  were  first  invaded  by 
whites,  a  family  organization  was  discovered  which  is 
called  by  its  Hawaiian  name,  punaluan.  It  is  constituted 
by  the  marriage  of  a  group  of  brothers  to  a  group  of  sis- 
ters. Each  woman  is  a  wife  to  all  the  men,  and  each  man 
a  husband  to  all  the  women.  This  form  still  exists  among 
the  Todas  of  India.    . 


Component  Societies  185 

The  polygynous  family,  in  which  the  husband  has  two 
or  more  wives  or  concubines,  has  been,  and  still  is,  even 
more  general  than  polyandry.  This  form  is  often  wrongly 
called  polygamous,  a  term  which  mear^  many  marriages, 
and  therefore  really  includes  polyandry,  or  the  plural  mar- 
riage of  one  woman  to  two  or  more  men,  as  well  as  polyg- 
yny, or  the  marriage  of  one  man  to  two  or  more  women. 
Polygyny  depends  upon  the  ability  of  the  husband  to 
support  a  large  domestic  establishment;  and  it  is  there- 
fore practically  confined  to  the  relatively  well-to-do  classes 
in  those  communities  that  tolerate  it.  It  usually  happens, 
therefore,  that  in  polygynous  societies  the  poorer  classes 
are  either  monogamous  or  polyandrian.  Polygyny  still 
flourishes  in  China  and  in  Turkey,  and  only  recently 
ceased  to  be  a  tolerated  form  of  marriage  in  one  of  the 
territories  of  the  United  States. 

As  societies  have  advanced  in  civilization,  monogamy, 
or  the  marriage  union  of  one  man  with  one  woman,  has 
everywhere  tended  to  displace  polyandry  and  polygyny. 
Theoretically,  a  monogamous  marriage  is  of  lifelong  dura- 
tion. Actually,  however,  divorce  is  nearly  everywhere 
allowed  for  various  causes ;  and  the  monogamous  family 
is  therefore  sometimes  unstable. 

Ethnical  and  Demotic  Societies.  —  Component  societies 
larger  than  families  and  composed  of  aggregations  of 
families  are  of  two  types :  the  ethnical  and  the  demotic. 
Ethnical  societies  are  genetic  aggregations.  A  real  or 
fictitious  blood  kinship  is  their  chief  social  bond.  They 
are  otherwise  known  as  tribal  societies,  and  include  all 
communities  of  uncivilized  races  which  maintain  a  tribal 
organization  like  those,  for  example,  of  the  North  Ameri- 
can Indians.      Demotic  societies,  while   in   some   degree 


1 86  TJie  Elements  of  Sociology 

products  of  genetic  aggregation,  are  largely  congregate 
associations.  They  are  groups  of  people  that  are  bound 
together  by  habitual  intercourse,  mutual  interests,  and 
cooperation,  emphasizing  their  mental  and  moral  resem- 
blance, and  giving  little  heed  to  origins  or  genetic  relation- 
ships. There  still  survive  in  various  parts  of  the  world 
savage  and  barbarian  communiti3s  of  such  varied  stages 
of  social  organization  that  every  form  of  social  composi- 
tion may  still  be  observed  and  comparatively  studied  in 
actually  existing  communities. 

Ethnical  Societies.  —  There  are  three  great  classes  of 
ethnical  societies  now  in  existence,  the  classification  being 
based  upon  the  degree  of  social  composition  to  which  these 
societies  have  attained. 

Hordes.  —  In  the  lowest  class  are  hordes.  This  is  a 
name  applied  to  a  small  social  group  composed  of  a  few 
families,  and  comprising  not  more  than  from  25  to  100 
persons  in  all.  No  such  horde  is  anywhere  found  living 
in  absolute  isolation.  It  is  always  in  communication  with 
other  similar  hordes  of  the  same  race,  language,  and  cult- 
ure. Under  the  influence  of  excitement  or  fear,  or  to 
share  an  unusual  food  supply,  or  for  the  purpose  of  migra- 
tion, hordes  may  temporarily  congregate  in  large  numbers ; 
but  they  do  not  permanently  combine  with  one  another  under 
the  leadership  of  a  common  chief  for  military  or  political 
action,  and  there  is  no  organization  of  a  religious  or  indus- 
trial character  that  binds  them  together  in  a  larger  whole. 
Examples  of  clusters  of  hordes  not  compacted  into  any 
larger  organization  are  the  Veddahs  of  Ceylon,  the  Min- 
copis  of  the  Andaman  Islands  in  the  Bay  of  Bengal,  the 
Australian  Blackfellows,  the  Bushmen  of  South  Africa, 
the  Fuegians  of  Terra  del  Fuego,  the  Innuit  of  the  north- 


Compofient  Societies  187 

eastern  and  northwestern  coasts  of  North  America,  the 
Utes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  the  Indians  of  the 
Amazonian  forests. 

Tribes.  —  In  the  second  class  of  ethnical  societies  are  ^ 
all  communities  in  which  several  hordes  have  become 
welded  into  a  larger  and  more  definitely  organized  society, 
occupying  a  defined  territory,  speaking  one  language  or 
dialect,  and  conscious  of  its  unity,  or  in  which  a  single 
horde,  grown  to  many  times  its  original  size,  has  become 
differentiated  and  organized.  The  smallest  united  and 
organized  society  that  is  composed  of  lesser  social  groups 
that  are  themselves  larger  than  single  families,  is  the  tribe. 
The  word  "tribe"  is  often  used  inaccurately.  It  should 
never  be  applied  to  a  single  horde,  or  even  to  a  cluster  of 
hordes.  A  tribe  is  always  sufficiently  organized  to  have  a 
military  leader  or  chief. 

Confederations.  —  In  the  third  class  of  ethnical  societies  I 
are  confederations  of  tribes  united  for  warlike  and  some- 
times for  other  purposes,  but  still  maintaining  a  social 
organization  on  the  basis  of  kinship,  and  therefore  not 
developed  into  civil  or  true  political  states.  The  famous 
federation  of  the  Iroquois  Indians  in  the  state  of  New 
York,  in  which  five,  afterwards  six,  tribes  were  bound 
together  in  a  powerful  military  league,  was  an  excellent 
example  of  this  grade  of  social  composition  among  ethni- 
cal societies.  The  confederations  of  Prankish,  Burgun- 
dian,  and  other  German  tribes  that  overran  the  Roman 
Empire  were  likewise  good  examples  of  the  same  grade 
of  social  composition.  A  coherent  aggregation  or  con- 
federation of  tribes  is  properly  called  a  folk  or  ethnic 
nation. 

Metronymy  and  Patronymy.  —  It  is  necessary  to  distin-  <i 


1 88  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

guish  between  two  different  types  of  ethnical  organization, 
one  of  which  is  older  than  the  other. 

The  older  may  be  named  metronymic.  In  a  metro- 
nymic group  all  the  relationships  are  traced  through 
mothers;  relationships  on  the  father's  side  are  ignored. 
Every  metronymic  social  group  is  named  from  some  class 
of  natural  objects,  such  as  a  species  of  plant  or  animal, 
which  is  thought  of  as  feminine  in  gender,  and  from 
which  the  group  is  supposed  to  have  sprung.  A  class 
of  objects  so  regarded  is  known  among  ethnologists  as  a 
totem,  which  is  approximately  its  American  Indian  name. 
The  totem  is  worshipped  as  possessing  divine  powers, 
and  as  maintaining  a  special  protective  oversight  of  the 
group;  and  the  group  in  turn  protects  the  totem  from 
harm.  No  animal  or  plant  of  the  totemic  class  can  be 
slain  or  used  for  food. 

The  later  type  of  social  organization  may  be  called 
the  patronymic.  Each  patronymic  group  is  named  from 
\  a  real  or  fictitious  male  ancestor,  and  relationships  are 
traced  in  the  male  line  through  fathers.  Each  of  these 
types,  the  metronymic  and  the  patronymic,  may  be  ob- 
served in  an  early  and  simple  form,  in  which  a  single 
tribe  is  the  largest  social  organization,  and  in  a  later, 
compound  form,  in  which  several  tribes  are  confederated, 
and  at  length  are  consolidated  into  a  folk. 

Metronymic  Tribes.  —  By  far  the  best  organized  metro- 
nymic tribes  that  have  as  yet  been  studied  by  ethnologists 
are  the  North  American  Indians.  The  typical  Indian 
tribe  is  differentiated  into  exogamous  totemic  kindreds. 
That  is  to  say,  it  is  made  up  of  groups,  each  of  which 
traces  relationships  through  mothers,  and  in  each  of 
which   marriage   between  its  own  members  is  forbidden. 


^ 


Component  Societies  .  189 

Any  marriage  within  the  tribe  must  be  between  a  man  of 
one  totemic  kindred  and  a  woman  of  some  other  kindred. 
This  obligation  to  marry  out  of  the  kindred  is  called  ex- 
ogamy. Each  totemic  kindred  is  nevertheless  supposed 
to  be  distantly  related  to  all  the  other  totemic  kindreds  in 
the  tribe.  Each  kindred  has  certain  governing  arrange- 
ments, including  a  council,  a  sachem  or  peace  officer,  and 
a  war  chief. 

Examples  of  metronymic  tribes  in  other  parts  of  the 
world  are  the  two  tribes  of  the  Damaras  in  South  Africa, 
the  Congo  tribes  of  West  Africa,  the  Inland  Negroes, 
the  Kasias  of  Bengal,  the  Tahitians  and  Tongans  of 
Polynesia,  and  the  Hovas  of  Madagascar. 

Among  examples  of  the  metronymic  folk  or  tribal 
nation,  the  Iroquois  Confederation  has  already  been  men- 
tioned. Other  examples  have  been  the  Tongans  and 
the  Malagasy. 

Patronymic  Tribes.  —  There  is  no  doubt  that  many  of 
the  patronymic  tribal  organizations  were  originally  metro- 
nymic. Kinships  were  originally  reckoned  through  moth- 
ers in  Egypt,  Arabia,  and  Palestine ;  among  the  Germans ; 
and  probably  among  the  Greeks. 

Among  well-known  historical  examples  of  patronymic 
organizations  were  those  of  the  Hebrews,  the  Greeks,  the 
Romans,  and  the  Germans.  The  plan  of  organization  did 
not  differ  from  that  of  such  metronymic  tribes  as  the 
North  American  Indians,  except  in  so  far  as  it  was  affected 
by  the  practice  of  tracing  relationships  through  fathers 
instead  of  through  mothers.  Each  tribe  was  divided  into 
kindred  groups  originally  exogamous,  although  in  course 
of  time  they  tended  to  become  endogamous,  that  is,  to  per- 
mit or  require  marriage  between  members  of  the  same 


IQO  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

kindred.  In  the  Greek  tribes,  the  kindred  group  was 
known  as  the  76^09,  in  the  Roman  tribe  as  the  gens.  In 
this  book  the  word  "  gens  "  will  be  used  in  speaking  of 
kindreds  of  the  Roman  tribe,  the  word  "  totem-kin "  in 
speaking  of  metronymic  kindred,  and  the  word  "  clan  "  as 
a  general  term  to  include  both  totemic  kindred  and  gentes. 

Among  existing  patronymic  tribes  and  confederations  of 
tribes  are  the  Santals  of  the  western  mountains  of  Lower 
Bengal,  the  Ostyaks  who  inhabit  the  dreary  northern 
country  of  the  banks  of  the  Obi,  the  Kaffirs,  Bechuanas, 
and  Hottentots  of  South  Africa. 

Demotic  Societies.  — The  composition  of  demotic  socie- 
ties has  already  been  incidentally  described.  The  compo- 
nent societies  of  demotic  communities  or  civilized  states 
include  families,  neighbourhoods,  hamlets  or  villages,  par- 
ishes, towns,  communes,  cities,  counties,  provinces  or  de- 
partments, commonwealths,  and  federal  nations. 

Origin  of  the  Social  Composition.  —  To  a  great  extent  all 
degrees  of  social  composition  beyond  the  family  and  the 
horde  are  products  of  the  deliberative  action  of  the  social 
jnind.  The  federation  of  tribes,  or  of  states,  is  effected 
by  the  social  mind  under  the  pressure  of  external  necessi- 
ties, especially  those  of  defence  and  aggression.  When 
integration  has  been  accomplished,  a  certain  internal  ne- 
cessity obliges  the  social  mind  to  maintain  the  union  after 
its  original  purpose  has  been  achieved.  The  consciousness 
of  kind  is  the  compelling  power.  The  social  mind  puts 
its  impress  on  each  component  group  and  moulds  it  into 
conformity  with  a  certain  type.  Thus,  in  a  given  commu- 
nity, every  variety  of  the  family  may  have  existed  at  the 
outset  or  may,  from  time  to  time,  appear.  But  the  social 
mind  gives  approval  to  some  one  type  only,  —  for  example, 


Component  Societies  191 

the  monogamic,  —  and  prohibits  or  discountenances  all 
others.  In  like  manner,  in  the  commonwealth  each  com- 
ponent town,  and  in  the  federal  state  each  component 
commonwealth,  is  compelled  to  conform  to  a  type  or 
standard. 

Thus  the  social  composition  is  a  psychological  rather 
than  a  physical  fact.  So  viewed,  it  may  be  described  as  an 
alliance,  in  each  component  group,  of  individuals  who  in 
many  points  are  alike,  but  who  tolerate  in  one  another 
particular  differences;  supplemented  by  an  alliance  of 
like  types  and  a  non-toleration  of  unlike  types  among 
component  groups. 

This  truth  admits  of  a  more  fundamental  statement  in 
which  the  law  of  social  composition  is  disclosed.  While 
much  actual  resemblance  of  individuals  to  one  another  is 
necessary  in  the  component  group,  and  a  greater  actual 
resemblance  of  group  types  to  one  another  is  necessary 
throughout  the  social  composition,  a  yet  greater  potential 
resemblance  is  necessary  among  both  individuals  and 
types.  The  social  composition,  then,  is  formed  by  the 
mutual  attraction  of  the  like,  and  non-toleration  of  the 
unlike ;  except  to  the  extent  that  the  actually  unlike  are 
so  far  potentially  alike  as  to  admit  of  continuing  assimila- 
tion. As  the  integration  of  the  like  proceeds,  the  social 
mind  becomes  aware  of  the  process,  deliberately  approves 
it,  and  by  all  possible  means  furthers  it.  The  social  mind 
does  this  because  it  develops  within  itself  a  passion  for 
homogeneity  of  type,  and  a  judgment  of  the  usefulness 
of  integration  or  federation,  as  a  defensive  and  offensive 
measure. 

We  therefore  may  say  that  the  social  composition  is 
produced  by  the  reciprocal  attractiveness  of  like  for  like. 


192  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

and  is  developed  by  the  passion  for  homogeneity  and  in- 
tegration, through  an  effort  to  combine   the   potentially 
with  the  actually  alike,  and  to  create  a  common  type, 
f^   The  Law  of  Development  of  the  social  composition  is : 
The  social  composition  develops  in  proportion  to  the  in- 
tensity and  scope  of  the  passion  for  homogeneity, 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Make  shaded  or  coloured  maps,  showing  the  social  composition  of 
the  United  States  and  of  the  British  Empire. 


CHAPTER  XVIII    ' 

Constituent  Societies 

Resemblance  in  Constituent  Societies.  —  Any  association 
organized  for  carrying  on  a  particular  activity,  or  for 
achieving  some  special  social  end,  is  a  constituent  society. 
This  name  is  descriptive  because  such  associations  collec- 
tively, when  harmoniously  correlated  so  that  they  supple- 
ment one  another's  functions,  are  the  social  constitution 
of  the  community.  Collectively,  they  carry  on  the  greater 
part  of  the  diversified  social  activities.  Since  the  constit- 
uent society  has  a  defined  object  in  view,  it  is  purposive 
in  character.  Its  members  are  supposed  to  be  aware  of 
its  object  and  to  put  forth  effort  for  its  attainment. 

Membership  in  a  constituent  society  is  not  an  incident 
of  birth.  New  members  are  admitted  into  a  purposive 
association  only  by  their  own  consent  and  by  the  permis- 
sion of  members.  Where  members  seem  to  enter  it  by 
birth,  as  in  a  church  which  claims  the  children  of  mem- 
bers, it  is  not  kinship,  but  a  claim,  consciously  made  and 
allowed,  that  is  the  true  ground  of  the  membership  rela- 
tion. Therefore  purposive  associations  have  no  indepen- 
dent existence.  They  depend  on  one  another,  and  they 
presuppose  the  social  composition.  They  are  found  only 
within  a  comprehensive  autogenous  or  integral  society. 

The  facts  of  resemblance  to  be  observed  in  the  member- 
ship of  a  constituent  society  are  precisely  the  opposite  of 
those  observed  in  the  membership  of  a  component  society. 
o  193 


194  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

Component  societies  are  more  alike  in  type  than  their 
members  are  in  character.  The  members  of  a  constituent 
society  are  more  alike  with  reference  to  the  purpose  that 
unites  them  than  are  any  two  associations.  The  members 
of  a  given  trade  union,  for  example,  with  reference  to  the 
objects  of  organized  labour  are  more  alike  than  are  any 
two  equally  accessible  and  efficient  unions.  Were  this 
not  so,  the  differing  members  would  join  other  organiza- 
tions. No  two  churches  resemble  each  other  so  closely 
in  feeling  and  belief  as  do  the  actually  cooperating  mem- 
bers of  any  given  church.  The  members  of  trade  unions 
collectively,  or  of  churches  collectively,  resemble  each 
other  more  than  trade  unions  in  general  resemble  churches 
in  general.  The  members  of  business  corporations  collec- 
tively or  of  scientific  societies  collectively  resemble  each 
other  more  closely  than  the  scientific  societies  resemble 
the  business  corporations. 

Furthermore,  of  the  three  great  modes  of  resemblance ; 
namely,  kinship,  mental  and  moral  similarity,  and  poten- 
tial likeness,  it  is  the  first  and  the  third  that  are  chiefly 
prominent  and  most  insisted  on  in  the  component  society. 
It  is  the  second,  or  actual  mental  and  moral  resemblance 
for  the  time  being,  that  is  most  conspicuous  and  most 
insisted  on  in  the  constituent  society.  The  component 
society,  if  relatively  homogeneous  in  race  and  nationality, 
and  if  certain  that  its  differing  elements  are  undergoing 
assimilation  to  a  common  type,  may  tolerate  much  diver- 
sity of  mental  and  moral  traits,  indeed  must  do  so  if  it  is 
to  have  a  social  constitution  and  a  division  of  labour.  The 
passion  for  homogeneity  which  it  manifests  is  the  desire 
to  maintain  a  general  homogeneity  of  blood,  or  at  least 
to   assimilate   the   different    elements  of   nationality   and 


Constituent  Societies  1 95 

speech  to  a  common  kind,  and  to  mould  the  traditional 
beliefs  to  a  common  type.  It  is  in  matters  of  detail 
that  it  is  willing  to  tolerate  difference.  In  the  constitu- 
ent society,  it  is  precisely  a  matter  of  detail  that  is  of 
chief  concern.  In  constituent  societies,  therefore,  like- 
ness of  nationality  and  potential  resemblance  may,  to  a 
great  extent,  be  ignored ;  but  actual  agreement  of  mind 
and  character  upon  the  specific  object  for  which  the 
association  exists  is  required. 

Finally,  as  each  association  in  the  social  constitution 
does  a  specific  work,  it  may  be  said  to  have  a  social  func- 
tion. From  this  point  of  view,  purposive  grouping  may 
be  described  as  functional  association.  The  combination 
of  purposive  associations  is,  therefore,  a  coordination  ;  and 
their  mutual  aid  is  not  limited  by  a  mere  increase  of  mass 
and  power.     It  is  effected  also  through  a  division  of  labour. 

Distribution  and  Forms  of  Constituent  Societies.  —  In  the 
lowest  bands  of  savage  men,  there  are  no  constituent 
societies.  There  is  much  cooperation,  but  there  is  no 
specialized  cooperative  group  for  systematically  carrying 
on  any  particular  activity.  There  is  no  business  corpora- 
tion, no  religious  fraternity  or  church,  no  political  party. 

In  tribal  societies  there  are  slight  beginnings  of  purposive 
association  and  a  few  simple  constituent  societies.  The 
fact  of  chief  significance  to  be  observed  in  the  study  of  the 
social  constitution  of  tribal  societies  is  the  relation  of  the 
social  constitution  to  the  social  composition.  The  constitu- 
ent societies  are  not  quite  distinct  from  the  component 
societies  as  they  are  in  civilized  communities.  On  the 
contrary,  they  are  often  merely  the  component  societies 
themselves  acting  in  a  particular  way,  at  a  particular  time, 
for  a  particular  purpose  ;  as  if  a  village  in  a  civilized  coun- 


r 


196  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

try  should,  on  a  special  occasion,  forget  that  it  is  a  village 
—  a  component  society  — and  resolve  itself  into  a  hunting 
party,  or  a  public  meeting,  or  a  "committee  of  the  whole," 
to  celebrate  a  great  event  or  to  enjoy  a  festival.  From 
the  careful  study  of  these  facts  of  tribal  society  an  impor- 
tant sociological  truth  is  discovered ;  namely,  that  in  social 
evolution  constituent  societies  grow  out  of  and  are  differ- 
entiated from  component  societies  through  a  specializa- 
tion of  function. 

The  Household. — The  simplest  example  is  found  in  the 
household,  which  is  an  organization  nearly,  but  not  quite, 
identical  with  the  family.  The  family,  a  unit  in  the  social 
composition,  is  a  genetic  aggregation.  The  household  is 
a  purposive  group  composed  of  those  individuals  who  live 
together  in  a  dwelling  and  cooperate  in  economic  activity, 
obtaining  and  preparing  food,  and  manufacturing  clothing, 
tools,  and  utensils.  Commonly,  but  not  always,  the  mem- 
bers of  a  family  and  the  members  of  a  household  are  iden- 
tical. Individual  members  of  a  family  may  leave  their 
own  household  group  to  dwell  elsewhere ;  and  the  house- 
hold may  include  members  who  are  not  of  the  family  kin- 
dred. Therefore,  while  the  family  is  a  component  society, 
the  household,  strictly  speaking,  is  a  constituent  society  or 
purposive  association. 

The  Clan.  —  Still  more  complicated  in  its  functions  is 
the  clan,  whether  it  be  the  totem-kin  of  a  metronymic 
tribe  or  the  gens  of  a  patronymic  tribe.  The  clan  is  in- 
cluded in  the  social  composition.  It  is  also  an  important 
part  of  the  social  constitution.  It  is  a  genetic  organization 
because  all  its  members,  in  reality  or  nominally,  are  de- 
scended from  a  common  ancestor  or  ancestral  group.  Yet 
it  never  contains  all  of  such  descendants.     If  the  clan  is 


Constituent  Societies  197 

metronymic,  it  includes  all  sons  and  daughters  of  the 
women  born  into  the  clan,  but  never  the  sons  and  daugh- 
ters of  the  men  born  into  the  clan,  since  descent  is  reck- 
oned through  mothers,  and  marriage  is  e^pgamous,  and  the 
sons  and  daughters  of  the  men,  therefore,  necessarily 
belong  to  the  clans  of  their  mothers.  If  the  clan  is 
patronymic,  these  conditions  are  reversed. 

It  is  easier  for  us  to  form  an  accurate  idea  of  the  patro- 
nymic than  of  the  metronymic  clan,  because  it  is  our  own 
practice  to  trace  descent  through  fathers.  Let  the  student 
think  of  a  particular  family  name,  Johnson,  for  example, 
and  remember  that  descendants  of  all  male  Johnsons  bear 
the  Johnson  name  ;  but  that  the  descendants  of  female 
Johnsons  bear  other  family  names  —  those  of  the  men 
whom  the  female  Johnsons  marry.  All  persons,  then, 
whether  male  or  female,  who  bear,  or  before  marriage  have 
borne,  the  name  of  Johnson,  may  be  said  to  belong  to  the 
Johnson  clan. 

To  form  a  true  mental  picture  of  the  metronymic  clan 
or  totem-kin  as  it  has  existed  in  North  American  Indian 
tribes,  the  student  must  simply  remember  that  names  de- 
scend through  mothers  instead  of  through  fathers ;  and 
that  all  persons,  male  or  female,  who,  by  right  of  birth, 
bear  the  mother  name,  belong  to  the  mother  clan ;  while 
all  descendants  in  the  male  line  bear  the  names  of  the 
mother  clans  into  which  the  men  have  married. 

The  clan  of  the  savage  tribe  is  thus  an  incomplete 
genetic  association.  As  a  component  society,  it  is  imper- 
fect because  of  its  exclusion  of  one-half  of  a  common  an- 
cestry. This  very  imperfection  as  a  component  society, 
however,  is  the  cause  of  its  specialization  of  function  as  a 
constituent  society.     The  clan  is  a  purposive  association 


198  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

that  enforces  rights  and  obligations,  and  cherishes  the 
juridical  tradition.  The  organization  and  functions  of 
an  Iroquois  clan  revealed  the  true  characteristics  of  clan 
responsibilities  and  activities  with  great  clearness.  Each 
Iroquois  clan  had  an  elected  sachem,  whose  duties  were 
essentially  those  of  a  petty  justice.  He  interpreted  and 
administered  the  juridical  traditions  of  the  clan.  The 
clan  had  also  a  council  which  discussed  and  determined 
all  matters  of  policy.  All  clansmen  and  clanswomen  had 
the  right  to  vote  in  electing  or  deposing  the  officers  of 
the  clan.  All  were  forbidden  to  marry  within  the  clan. 
All  were  bound  by  the  obligation  to  help  and  defend  a 
fellow-clansman  and  to  avenge  his  injuries.  All  shared 
in  the  right  to  bear  the  clan's  totemic  name,  to  inherit 
the  property  of  deceased  members,  and  to  adopt  strangers 
into  the  clan.  All  participated  in  the  common  religious 
observances,  and  all  had  rights  in  the  common  burial 
place. 

Other  Tribal  Associations.  —  In  addition  to  the  house- 
hold and  the  clan,  other  simple  constituent  associations 
are  always  to  be  found  in  tribal  societies.  Usually  there 
are  many  secret  associations  which  have  religious  func- 
tions. The  tribe  itself  is  a  military  organization,  usually 
presided  over  by  a  council  of  chieftains  who  have  been 
the  successful  leaders  of  war  parties. 

The  Constitution  of  Civil  Societies.  —  In  civil  societies, 
the  social  constitution  is  completely  developed  and,  in  the 
main,  is  separated  from  the  social  composition,  although  the 
separation  is  never  complete  at  all  points.  Moreover,  in 
civil  society,  composition  is  subordinated  to  the  social 
constitution  ;  while  in  tribal  society  the  social  constitu- 
tion is  but  incidental  to  the  composition. 


Constituent  Societies  199 

The  chief  purposive  organization  of  civil  society  is  the 
state,  through  which  the  social  mind  dominates  the  inte- 
gral community,  prescribes  forms  and  obligations  to  all 
minor  purposive  associations,  and  shapes  the  social  com- 
position. Coordinating  all  activities  and  relations,  the 
state  maintains  conditions  under  which  all  its  subjects 
may  live,  as  Aristotle  said,  "a  perfect  and  self-sufficing 
life." 

Subordinate  to  the  state,  which  touches  every  interest 
and  action  of  its  members,  are  private  purposive  associa 
tions  of  narrower  range  and  with  more  specialized  func 
tions.      A    French    sociologist,     M.    Fouillee,    has    said 
"Imagine  a  great  circle  within  which  are  lesser  circles 
combining  in  a  thousand  ways  to  form  the  most  varied 
figures  without  overstepping  the  limits  that  enclose  them 
this  is  an  image  of  the  great  association  of  the  state  and 
of  the  particular  associations  that  it  embraces." 

The  private  associations  are  of  four  classes.  Those  of 
one  class  are  directly  concerned  with  political  interests. 
Independent  of  the  government,  they  make  governments 
and  unmake  them.  The  principal  associations  of  this 
class  are  the  political  parties.  In  a  second  class  are  pri- 
vate organizations  that  assume  juristic  functions,  usually, 
but  not  always,  in  violation  of  law.  Such  are  vigilance 
committees,  the  Ku-Klux  Klans,  and  the  White  Caps. 
In  the  third  class  are  the  various  organizations  of  indus- 
trial society  which  provide  for  the  physical  needs  of  life 
and  adjust  the  changing  relations  of  want  and  satisfaction. 
In  the  fourth  class  are  all  organizations  that  occupy  them- 
selves with  matters  of  emotion,  sentiment,  imagination, 
thought,  and  conduct.  These  are  the  cultural  associa- 
tions whose  object  is  to  foster  mental  and  moral  develop- 


200  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

ment  and  to  promote  happiness.  They  include  the  church 
and  its  allied  organizations,  philanthropic  societies,  scien- 
tific and  educational  associations,  and  innumerable  organi- 
zations for  social  pleasure. 

Every  purposive  association  has  not  only  a  function  but 
also  a  composition  and  a  constitution  which  are  adapted 
to  the  performance  of  the  function. 

In  the  composition  of  purposive  associations,  individuals 
are  combined  as  persons  and  by  categories  ;  for  example, 
the  categories  of  employer  and  employ^,  in  the  compo- 
sition of  an  industrial  group.  The  composition  of  associa- 
tions must  be  studied  with  reference  to  the  common  trait 
or  interest  that  unites  their  members. 

The  constitution  of  a  purposive  association  is  the  plan 
of  organization  of  its  membership.  The  categories  of  in- 
dividuals which  compose  it  are  combined  in  accordance 
with  some  principle  of  subordination  or  codrdination ;  and 
the  entire  membership  may  be  divided  into  sub-societies, 
bureaus,  or  committees. 

The  organization  of  a  voluntary  purposive  association 
has  further  to  be  described  as  secret  or  open.  Secrecy 
and  a  rigorous  exercise  of  authority  over  members  are 
conspicuous  features  of  purposive  associations  in  savage 
tribes,  and  hardly  less  so  in  the  great  Oriental  empires  of 
China,  Farther  India,  and  Persia.  In  mediaeval  days,  they 
marked  the  social  organization  of  western  Europe ;  but 
they  are  now  exceptional  there,  and  are  rare  in  the  United 
States  if  the  whole  number  of  organizations  is  taken  into 
account.  Perhaps  no  more  interesting  contrast  than  this 
exists  in  the  social  systems  of  America  and  China.  Amer- 
ica is  sociologically  a  vast  plexus  of  free  associations,  most 
of  which  are  perfectly  open  in  their  objects  and  methods. 


Constituent  Societies  201 

China  is  a  social  network  of  oath-bound  secret  societies, 
whose  members  are  under  threat  of  mutilation  or  death 
if  they  reveal  the  mysteries  of  their  fraternities.  There 
is  probably  some  close  connection  between  such  a  con- 
trast and  the  relative  predominance  of  economic  associa- 
tion in  the  West,  and  of  religious,  fraternal,  and  defensive 
association  in  the  East. 

The  State.  —  The  composition  of  the  state  includes  sub- 
jects and  members.  All  who  dwell  within  the  territorial 
boundaries  of  an  independent  state  are  its  subjects,  and 
must  obey  its  authority  and  laws.  Not  all  subjects  of  the 
state,  however,  are  in  any  true  sense  members  of  it, 
although  it  is  a  very  common  error  to  assume  that  they 
are.  Only  those  who  share  in  the  consciousness  of  the 
state  and  who,  by  their  loyalty  and  their  willing  aid,  con- 
tribute to  its  authority  and  power,  are  truly  members. 
The  rebel  and  the  traitor  and  the  criminal  are  in  the 
state ;  but  they  are  not  of  it. 

Therefore,  in  the  composition  of  the  state,  individuals 
are  combined  by  categories.  These  categories  are :  first, 
the  subjects  of  authority;  second,  the  makers  of  moral 
authority  ;  third,  the  makers  of  legal  authority  ;  and,  fourth, 
the  agents  of  legal  authority.  All  who  share  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  state  and  freely  Contribute  their  thought 
and  effort  to  it  are  makers  of  authority  in  a  general  sense, 
that  is,  of  moral  authority.  It  is  this  general  or  moral 
authority  which  is  ultimately  embodied  in  law  and  in  the 
political  organization.  But  not  all  who  help  to  create 
moral  authority  actually  help  to  convert  it  into  legal  forms 
The  makers  of  legal  authority  are  those  who  legally  ex 
ercise  the  franchise,  and,  by  their  votes,  authorize  the 
legal  acts  of  the  state.     The  electors  of  the  state  are  thus 


202  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

a  very  definite  purposive  association  within  an  association 
that  is  larger  and  less  definite  ;  and,  as  in  all  other  pur- 
posive associations  that  are  definite  in  form,  new  members 
are  admitted  to  the  electorate  only  by  the  consent  of 
members. 

The  agents  of  legal  authority  are  those  whom  the 
electors  authorize  to  put  their  will  into  final  form  and 
execution.  Collectively,  the  agents  of  legal  authority  are 
the  government. 

Constitution  of  the  State.  —  In  the  constitution  of  the 
state,  the  most  important  subordinate  bodies  are  the  public 
corporations.  The  state  first  incorporates  itself,  defining 
its  territory  and  its  membership,  describing  its  organiza- 
tion, and  laying  upon  itself  the  rules  of  procedure  by 
which  it  will  systematically  conduct  its  affairs.  It  next, 
in  like  manner,  incorporates  the  local  subdivisions  of  so- 
ciety, such  as  counties,  townships,  and  cities,  and  assigns 
to  each  certain  rights,  duties,  and  powers.  The  remaining 
subordinate  organizations  of  the  state  are  found  within 
the  public  corporations.  They  consist  of  parliamentary 
and  legislative  bodies  to  initiate  the  formulation  of  law ; 
of  courts  to  complete  the  formulation  of  law  ;  and  of  execu- 
tive bureaus,  boards,  and  commissions. 

The  Functions  of  the  State  are  coextensive  with  human 
interests.  This,  at  least,  is  what  they  are  in  fact.  From 
time  to  time,  political  philosophy  has  attempted  to  prove 
that  the  functions  of  the  state  ought  to  be  limited  to 
a  comparatively  narrow  sphere,  leaving  all  other  things 
to  individual  initiative  and  voluntary  organization.  The 
sociologist  is  concerned  with  the  functions  of  the  state, 
however,  as  they  actually  appear  in  existing^  communities 
and  in  history. 


Constittient  Societies  203 

The  primary  purpose  of  the  state  is  to  perfect  social 
integration.  To  this  end  it  maintains  armies  and  carries 
on  diplomacy  to  protect  the  nation  against  aggression, 
or  to  enlarge  its  territory  and  population  ^  and  it  maintains 
tribunals  and  police  to  enforce  peace  within  its  own 
borders.  The  first  business  of  legislatures,  courts,  and 
executives  is  to  combine,  defend,  and  harmonize  social 
groups,  classes,  individuals,  and  interests. 

Inevitably,  however,  the  performance  of  this  work  car- 
ries the  state  into  economic  activities.  All  modern  states 
coin  money.  To  a  very  great  extent,  credit  and  banking 
operations  are  controlled  by  governments.  States  inter- 
fere with  values  also  by  legislation  and  taxation,  sometimes 
on  a  vast  scale,  as  in  the  complicated  protective  tariff 
systems  of  the  United  States,  Germany,  and  France.  All 
states  put  the  chief  means  of  comm.unication  namely,  the 
postal  system,  under  the  management  of  the  government. 
As  yet,  the  railroad  systems  of  the  world  are  operated 
chiefly  by  private  corporations.  In  all  states,  however, 
the  business  of  railroads  is  being  more  and  more  closely 
regulated  by  the  government ;  and  in  many  parts  of  Eu- 
rope railroads  have  become  government  property. 

Not  less  inevitable  is  it  that  states  should  assume  cult- 
ural functions.  The  members  of  the  state  see  that  social 
cohesion  is  a  spiritual  union  rather  than  an  external  com- 
pulsion, and  that  it  depends  upon  the  ideas  of  individuals. 
They  believe  it  to  be  as  necessary  to  guide  the  minds  of 
men  as  it  is  to  suppress  crime  and  insurrection.  Rightly 
or  wrongly,  they  believe  also  that  the  guidance  will  be 
inadequate  or  pernicious  unless  the  state  itself  is  the  su- 
preme guide.  Every  state,  therefore,  maintains  either 
institutions  of  religion,  like  the  Greek  church  of  Russia, 


204  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

or  an  elaborate  system  of  education,  like  that  of  the  United 
States  or  of  France.  Occasionally  a  state,  like  England 
or  Prussia,  succeeds  in  maintaining  side  by  side  a  state 
religion  and  a  state  instruction  ;  but  it  is  generally  recog- 
nized that  such  a  policy  creates  a  condition  of  unstable 
equilibrium.  Every  state  in  these  days  recognizes  obliga- 
tions to  literature,  science,  and  art,  and  undertakes  to  dis- 
charge them  by  supporting  universities,  and  such  insti- 
tutions as  the  French  Academy  and  the  numerous  scientific 
bureaus  of  the  United  States,  and  by  maintaining  libraries, 
museums,  and  galleries  of  art. 

Voluntary  Associations.  —  The  assumption  that  the  state 
has  only  functions  of  defence  and  arbitration  is  not  more 
erroneous  than  the  common  assumption  that  voluntary 
organization  has  only  economic  and  cultural  functions. 
Voluntary  organization  is  coextensive  with  every  mode  of 
human  activity. 

Political  Associations.  —  The  most  important  of  all 
voluntary  organizations  are  political  associations.  The 
state,  so  far  from  being  the  only  political  organization, 
could  not  exist  in  a  free  or  republican  form  were  there  not 
voluntary  and  private  political  associations. 

In  the  composition  of  political  associations,  men  of  like 
views  and  like  interests  are  allied.  It  is  a  great  mistake,* 
however,  to  suppose  that  a  purely  intellectual  agreement 
upon  specific  matters  of  common  interest  is  the  chief  bond 
of  union  in  a  political  party.  The  real  bond  is  the  con- 
sciousness of  kind  in  its  entirety,  including  sympathies, 
instincts,  agreement  in  beliefs,  and  other  forms  of  emotion 
and  prejudice  that  unite  men  in  political  action.  Most 
men  adhere  to  the  political  party  in  which  they  have  been 
reared,  not  from  conviction,  but  from  liking.     A  monarch- 


Constituent  Societies  205 

ist  knows  that  another  monarchist  is  in  instinct  like  himself, 
and  that  a  republican  is  not.  Their  differences  are  far 
more  in  matters  of  sympathy  than  in  matters  of  opinion. 
No  one  fact  in  American  history  is  so  significant  as  the 
persistency  with  which  Federalists,  Whigs,  and  Republi- 
cans have  contemplated  themselves  as  a  different  kind  of 
beings  from  Democrats.  Opinion  and  interest  are  never- 
theless important  factors  of  political  association.  No 
political  party  is  as  homogeneous  as  it  would  be  if  the 
sympathetic  and  sentimental  elements  of  the  conscious- 
ness of  kind  were  its  sole  animating  power.  In  every 
political  association  there  are  men  of  unlike  natures  who 
are  united  by  identity  of  opinions  or  by  community  of 
interests.  The  heterogeneity  of  political  association  is 
further  increased  by  the  necessary  combination  of  leader- 
ship and  following. 

The  constitution  of  voluntary  political  associations 
assumes  the  forms  of  secret  societies,  non-secret  but 
exclusive  clubs,  and  open  associations.  Secret  societies 
and  cabals  are  characteristic  of  states  in  which  liberty  is 
imperfectly  developed,  and  in  which,  therefore,  all  criticism 
of  the  government  and  all  private  initiative  are  dangerous. 
Political  agitation  in  Russia  and  in  the  Danubian  states 
to-day  is  carried  on  largely  through  secret  societies  as  it 
was  in  France  during  the  Revolution  and  in  England  dur- 
ing the  seventeenth  century.  In  lands  where  freedom  of 
discussion  is  upheld  by  law,  secret  association  in  politics  is 
resorted  to  only  by  criminals,  revolutionists,  and  other  men 
who  fear  to  fight  in  the  open.  The  anarchistic  agitation 
in  Europe  and  in  America  has  naturally'  been  conducted 
through  secret  societies. 

Non-secret  but  exclusive  clubs,  combining  political  with 


2o6  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

social  functions,  have  long  been  a  form  of  voluntary  polit- 
ical organization,  and  have  at  times  played  an  important 
part  in  public  affairs.  The  Union  League  Clubs  that  were 
founded  in  the  large  American  cities  during  the  Civil  War 
have  been  good  examples  of  this  kind  of  political  organiza- 
tion. 

In  countries  that  enjoy  freedom  under  constitutional 
guarantee,  however,  the  active  work  of  politics  is  chiefly 
carried  on  by  those  open  associations,  called  political 
parties,  to  which  all  votejs  desiring  in  good  faith  to  join 
them  are  welcomed.  The  great  political  parties  of  Eng- 
land and  the  United  States  are  the  largest,  they  are  also 
the  most  mobile  and  efficient  of  voluntary  organizations. 
Each  includes  among  its  adherents  men  of  every  degree  of 
mental  evolution,  of  almost  every  nationality,  and  of  every 
pursuit.  Each  is  so  perfectly  distributed  over  a  vast  area 
that  it  counts  voters  in  every  hamlet  of  the  national 
domain.  It  is  exceptional  when  either  of  the  leading 
parties  of  the  United  States  fails  in  a  presidential  election 
to  poll  one-quarter  of  the  total  vote  of  any  commonwealth. 

A  great  political  party  stands  for  a  general  way  of  look- 
ing at  public  affairs,  and  of  dealing  with  them,  rather  than 
for  any  single  interest.  It  is  controlled  more  by  class 
feeling  than  by  political  philosophy  ;  and  inasmuch  as  the 
interests  of  a  class  do  not  remain  unchanged  throughout  a 
long  term  of  years,  a  great  political  party  is  never  continu- 
ously identified  with  a  particular  policy,  although  there  is  a 
widespread  popular  belief  that  it  is.  The  natural  nucleus 
of  one  great  political  party  in  every  country  is  the  middle 
class  of  business  men  engaged  in  manufactures  and  com- 
merce. The  interests  of  commercialism  and  capitalism 
always  dictate  the  policy  of  the  party  to  which  the  busi- 


Constituent  Societies  207 

ness  classes  belong.  The  opposing  party  is  quite  as 
naturally  constituted  by  an  alliance  of  the  land-owning, 
professional,  and  wage-earning  classes. 

These  groupings,  however,  form  only  the  core  of  each 
great  political  party.  Only  the  members  of  a  political  party 
that  are  bound  to  it  by  the  sympathetic  and  instinctive 
elements  of  the  consciousness  of  kind,  in  other  words,  by 
class  instinct  and  prejudice,  can  be  depended  upon  to  vote 
its  ticket  under  all  vicissitudes.  The  men  who  join  it  from 
conviction  or  from  interest  leave  it  from  time  to  time  as 
their  interests  change  or  as  the  party  fails  to  support  the 
policy  which  they  regard  as  right.  Therefore,  while 
parties  are  relatively  enduring,  majorities  are  the  most 
unstable  products  of  human  combination. 

Second  in  importance  only  to  the  great  political  parties, 
are  the  minor  parties,  that  work  for  the  achievement  of 
particular  ends.  Since  by  their  very  nature  the  great 
parties  care  less  for  principles  or  measures  than  for  class 
interests,  principles  and  measures  have  to  be  forced  upon 
them  from  without.  Consequently,  two  or  three  parties 
with  one  idea  apiece  are  always  in  the  field.  They  seldom 
win  an  election  ;  but  they  often  gain  a  hearing  and  con- 
cessions. They  spring  up  suddenly,  grow  with  astonish- 
ing rapidity,  and  as  quickly  melt  away.  Such  were  the 
Anti-Masonic  Party  of  183 1,  the  Liberty  Party  of  1840, 
and  the  Free-Soil  Party  of  1848,  which  were  merged  into 
the  Republican  Party  of  i860,  the  Know-Nothing  Party 
of  1856,  the  Prohibition  Party  of  1872,  the  Greenback 
Party  of  1876,  and  the  People's  Party  of  1892. 

The  evils  of  partisanship  and  of  corruption  in  legislation, 
and  the  spoils  system  of  administration,  have  called  into 
existence  numerous  associations  to  promote  patriotism  and 


208  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

to  secure  honesty  in  governmental  affairs.  Best  known 
among  these  are  the  Civil  Service  Reform  Association 
and  its  branches,  and  important  organizations  in  most  of 
the  great  cities  for  promoting  local  municipal  reforms. 

In  addition  to  all  the  foregoing  there  are  innumerable 
political  associations  to   promote   particular  interests,  to 
protect  particular  classes,  or  to  procure  particular  legis- 
lation.     Some  of   them  are  permanently  organized ;   but   . 
most  of  them  are  short  lived. 

The  functions  of  voluntary  political  organizations  may 
be  revolutionary  or  legal.  In  the  nature  of  things,  revo- 
lution can  be  achieved  only  through  voluntary  associations. 
If  not  so  obvious,  it  is  just  as  certain  that  a  republican 
form  of  government^  can  be  maintained  only  through  the 
tireless  and  infinitely  varied  activity  of  voluntary  political 
associations  that  keep  within  the  bounds  of  law.  They 
initiate  legislation,  they  criticise  administration,  they 
achieve  reforms.  Every  one  understands  that  govern- 
ments do  not  criticise  and  reform  themselves.  It  is, 
perhaps,  not  so  generally  known  that,  in  modern  times, 
governments  initiate  but  little  legislation.  A  few  impor- 
tant measures  are  proposed  by  cabinet  ministers,  govern- 
ors, and  presidents ;  but  more  are  instigated  by  voluntary 
associations  whose  agents  draft  bills,  procure  their  intro- 
duction in  Legislature,  Congress,  or  Parliament,  and  watch 
them  through  every  stage  of  progress  to  final  enactment 
or  rejection.  Without  such  associations,  there  could  be 
no  republic  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word.  The  alternative 
is  bureaucracy  or  absolute  monarchy. 

Juristic  Associations.  —  Private  associations  that  assume 
juristic  functions  are  of  two  clasSbs. 

The  largest  class  is  composed  of  lawless  organizations 


Constituent  Societies  209 

that  spring  into  existence  in  the  absence  of  legally  con- 
stituted courts,  or  when  courts  fail  to  do  their  duty  in 
protecting  property  and  life.  It  is  usually  the  lawless 
and  violent  element  in  the  population  that  enters  into  the 
composition  of  illegal  or  non-legal  juristic  organizations. 

The  other  class  of  private  juristic  associations  includes 
organizations  to  arbitrate  disputes  or  to  adjust  pecuniary 
claims.  Voluntary  boards  of  arbitration  are  not  infre- 
quently established  to  deal  with  disputes  of  an  essentially 
juristic  character  between  employer  and  employed.  In 
this  class  of  organizations,  also,  must  be  included  legally 
incorporated  associations  whose  function  is  to  promote 
the  enforcement  of  law  in  respect  to  particular  classes  of 
interests.  Among  such  are  various  organizations  for  pre- 
venting cruelties  to  children  or  to  animals,  for  enforcing 
temperance  legislation,  sanitary  laws,  and  municipal  ordi- 
nances. 

Economic  Associations.  —  Private  economic  associations, 
as  a  rule,  are  ^^omposed  of  individuals  of  like  ability  and 
training.  In  economic  organization  less  than  elsewhere 
in  society  do  the  sympathetic,  instinctive,  and  emotional 
elements  of  the  consciousness  of  kind  determine  alliances. 
Intellectual  agreement  in  notions  of  utility  is  the  control- 
ling principle.  Yet  even  in  economic  organization  race 
and  national  prejudices  have  their  influence.  In  the 
United  States  they  are  the  cause  of  the  refusal  of  white 
artisans  in  both  the  North  and  the  South  to  work  with 
negroes,  and  the  practical  exclusion  of  the  negro  from 
mechanical  trades. 

The  categories  of  employer  and  employed  do  not  usually 
enter  into  the  composition^f  the  same  association.  They 
are  combined  in  industrial  groups,  which  unite  two  or  more 
p 


210  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

associations ;  as,  for  example,  in  a  manufacturing  group 
that  includes  a  partnership  or  a  corporation  as  the  entre- 
preneur, and  members  of  several  trade  unions  as  em- 
ployes. 

The  constitution  of  private  economic  associations  takes 
the  form  of  partnerships,  corporations,  and  miscellaneous 
associations  not  incorporated.  Partnerships,  with  an  un- 
limited liability  of  each  partner  and  a  limited  capital,  are 
adapted  only  to  small  enterprises.  To  the  evolution  of 
the  corporation  with  its  limited  liability  of  the  individual 
stockholder,  its  control  of  capital  by  the  massing  of  indi- 
vidual accumulations,  and  its  command  of  the  services 
of  men  of  superior  ability,  we  owe  the  gigantic  industrial 
undertakings  of  modern  times. 

Of  unincorporated  associations  with  economic  functions, 
the  most  important  are  the  trusts  and  labour  organizations. 

Practically  every  industry  is  controlled  or  affected  by 
combinations  that  attempt  to  regulate  production  and 
prices.  Some  of  these  combinations  are  mere  agreements, 
while  others  are  somewhat  elaborate  organizations,  with 
power  to  impose  strict  conditions  upon  individual  pro- 
ducers, and  to  enforce  penalties  against  disobedience. 

Among  wage-earners'  associations,  the  American  Fed- 
eration of  Labour  is  a  good  example  of  complex  yet  flexible 
and  efficient  organization. 

The  study  of  the  functions  of  private  economic  associa- 
tion falls  within  the  special  social  science  of  Political 
Economy.  The  functions  include  the  production  of  goods 
in  agriculture,  mining,  and  manufacturing,  by  means  of 
industrial  groups  that  range  in  complexity  from  the  com- 
bination of  the  individual  employer  and  his  workmen  to 
the  association  of  great  corporations  and  their  thousands 


Constituent  Societies  211 

of  organized  employes  acting  as  a  unit.  They  include 
also  the  transportation  and  exchange  of  goods  by  means 
of  railways,  steamships,  and  express  companies,  and  by 
mercantile  partnerships  and  corporations  ;  the  equilibration 
of  values  through  ordinary  markets,  through  such  special 
markets  as  produce  and  stock  exchanges,  and  through 
banking  organizations ;  the  accumulation  of  capital  and 
the  provision  against  want  by  means  of  institutions  for 
saving,  insurance,  and  mutual  aid ;  and,  finally,  economic 
aggression  and  defence,  through  the  mechanism  of  trusts 
and  trade  unions. 

Cultural  Associations.  —  In  the  composition  of  private^ 
cultural  associations,  there  is  an  alliance  of  persons  of  like 
beliefs,  tastes,  and  natures.  It  is  usually  the  professed 
purpose  of  cultural  associations  to  make  belief  or  taste  the 
condition  of  membership ;  but  this  ideal  is  never  realized. 
The  sympathetic  elements  of  the  consciousness  of  kind 
are  always  present  to  unite  some  whose  beliefs  differ  and 
to  sunder  some  whose  beliefs  agree.  The  constitution  of 
cultural  associations  requires  no  special  description.  It 
takes  the  form  either  of  corporations  or  of  unincorporated 
societies,  secret  or  open.  The  functions  of  cultural  asso- 
ciation are  religious,  philanthropic,  scientific  and  educa- 
tional, aesthetic  and  pleasurable. 

The  church  as  a  voluntary  organization  may  exist  in  a 
country  like  England  that  has  an  established  religion  ;  but 
it  can  attain  its  complete  development  only  in  a  country 
where  state  and  church  are  completely  separated,  as  in 
the  United  States. 

The  religious  population  of  a  country  is  organized  also 
in  a  bewildering  number  of  special  associations.  These 
include  the  monastic  orders  and  societies  of  the  Roman 


/ 


212  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

Catholic  church,  and  the  missionary  and  other  societies  of 
the  Protestant  denominations. 

To  a  great  extent,  private  philanthropic  organizations 
have  assumed  that  care  of  the  unfortunate  which  formerly 
was  exercised  by  the  church.  They  are  as  many  and  as 
varied  as  human  ills ;  and  no  complete  enumeration  of 
them  has  ever  been  made.  Among  those  especially  worth 
studying  are  Charity  Organization  Societies,  the  National 
Conference  of  Charities  and  Correction,  the  National 
Prison  Congress,  and  the  university  and  other  social  settle- 
ments modelled  more  or  less  closely  on  the  Toynbee  Hall 
experiment  which  was  begun  in  East  London  in  1885. 

Large  as  is  the  field  occupied  by  government  scientific 
bureaus,  state  universities,  and  public  schools,  fully  one- 
half  of  all  scientific  and  educational  activity  is  carried  on 
through  private  organizations ;  namely,  the  national  and 
local  learned  bodies,  the  private  schools,  and  the  denomi- 
national colleges.  In  the  United  States,  every  branch  of 
research,  from  physics,  chemistry,  and  astronomy  to  philol- 
ogy and  folk-lore,  is  fostered  by  an  association.  A  large 
majority  of  the  451  degree-conferring  colleges  and  univer- 
sities are  private  foundations ;  and  the  larger  part  of  their 
nearly  ;^  100,000,000  of  productive  funds  has  been  given  to 
them  by  individuals. 

Fraternal  societies  usually  combine  mutual  aid  with 
social  pleasure,  as  do  for  example  the  Free  Masons  and 
the  Odd  Fellows.  Associations  for  the  promotion  of  art 
or  music  often  serve  no  other  end.  Social  clubs  some- 
times become  active  political  organizations.  But  in  gen- 
eral, the  chief  objects  of  all  these  organizations  are 
personal  culture  and  social  enjoyment. 

Generalizations.  —  Certain    generalizations    may   be   d© 


Constituent  Societies  213 

rived  from  the  foregoing  account  of  the  social  constitu- 
tion. The  most  important  of  these  has  been  disclosed  in 
the  discovery  that  governments  and  private  organizations 
duplicate  each  other's  functions.  In  the  social  constitu- 
tion, either  public  or  private  associations  can,  at  need, 
assume  any  social  function.  In  times  of  danger  the  gov- 
ernment can  operate  fleets  and  railways,  build  bridges, 
manufacture  goods,  and  transact  financial  operations  on  a 
vast  scale  because,  in  times  of  security,  it  often  does  such 
things  on  a  small  scale.  In  times  of  anarchy  or  revolu- 
tion, private  associations  can  protect  life  and  property, 
administer  justice,  and  organize  a  provisional  government ; 
because  in  times  of  peace  they  initiate  legislation,  watch 
the  enforcement  of  law,  and  hold  governments  to  their 
work. 

This  generalization  is  of  practical  no  less  than  of  scien- 
tific value.  It  is  the  one  adequate  principle  by  which  to 
judge  the  pretensions  of  socialism  and  of  individuahsm. 
The  socialists  are  right  when  they  say  that,  if  it  were 
necessary  or  desirable,  the  state  could  carry  on  all  social 
undertakings  through  public  agencies.  The  individualists 
are  equally  right  when  they  say  that  society  could  exist 
and,  after  a  fashion,  could  achieve  its  ends  without  authori- 
tative government.  Socialists  and  individualists  are  both 
wrong  when  they  suppose  that  either  of  these  things  will 
happen  under  a  normal  social  evolution. 

The  actual  distribution  of  functions  between  public  and 
private  agencies  is  a  varying  one.  It  changes  with  chang- 
ing circumstances.  So  long  as  conditions  are  normal, 
movements  that  tend,  on  the  one  hand,  to  increase  public 
activity  or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  enlarge  the  opportunities 
for  private  initiative,  are  self-limiting.     They  are  tenden- 


214  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

cies  towards  equilibrium.  Whatever  belittles  the  state  or 
destroys  belief  in  its  power  to  perform  any  kind  of  social 
service,  whatever  impairs  the  popular  habit  of  achieving 
ends  by  private  initiative  and  voluntary  organization,  en- 
dangers society  and  prevents  the  full  realization  of  its 
ends. 

Another  generalization  from  the  description  of  the  social 
constitution  is  that  the  various  organizations  of  society 
are  not  only  correlated,  but  are  also  subordinated,  some 
to  other  organizations,  and  all  to  a  general  end.  The 
supreme  end  of  society  in  general  is  the  protection  and 
perfecting  of  sentient  life.  The  end  of  human  society  is 
the  development  of  the  rational  and  spiritual  personality  of 
its  members.  Only  the  cultural  associations  are  immediately 
concerned  in  this  function.  Educational  institutions,  reli- 
gious, scientific,  ethical,  and  aesthetic  organizations,  and 
polite  society  act  for  good  or  ill  directly  upon  the  individ- 
ual. To  these  the  economic,  the  legal,  and  the  political 
organization  are,  in  a  functional  sense,  subordinate.  In  a 
functional  sense,  they  exist  for  the  sake  of  cultural  organi- 
zation and  activity.  The  social  mind  has  always  perceived 
this  truth,  and  by  means  of  its  sanctions  has  endeavoured 
to  mould  the  social  constitution  into  accordance  with  it. 
Associations  and  relationships  are  fostered  or  abolished 
with  a  view  to  cultural  no  less  than  to  protective  ends. 

For  both  ends  specialization  and  a  division  of  labour  are 
necessary.  Therefore,  while  society  maintains  the  homo- 
geneity of  its  composition,  it  is  obliged  to  tolerate  and  to 
promote  differentiation  in  its  constitution.  Psychologi- 
cally, therefore,  the  social  constitution  is  the  precise 
opposite  of  the  social  composition.  It  is  an  alliance,  in 
each  simple  association,  of  individuals  who,  in  respect  to 


Constituent  Societies  215 

±e  purpose  of  the  association,  must  be  mentally  and 
morally  alike,  but  who  in  all  other  respects  may  be  unlike ; 
supplemented  in  the  relations  of  associations  to  one  an- 
other and  to  integral  society  by  toleration  and  coordina- 
tion of  the  unlike. 

Law  of  Development.  —  Still  further  generalizing,  we 
may  state  the  law  of  development  of  the  social  constitution 
as  follows : 

The  development  of  the  social  constitution  depends  upon    ^  I 
the  growth  of  an  appreciation  of  the  value  of  variety  or 
unlikeness  in  society. 

The  social  constitution,  therefore,  is  the  result  of  a 
desire  to  combine  variety  with  homogeneity  in  a  complex 
unity. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Make  an  analytical  table,  showing  the  social  constitution  of  a  famil- 
iar local  community.  Read  Bryce's  '•  American  Commonwealth,"  Part 
VI.  From  Webb's  "  History  of  Trade  Unionism  "  prepare  a  sketch  of 
labour  organizations. 


CHAPTER   XIX 
The  Character  and  Efficiency  of  Organization 

Coercion  and  Liberty.  —  The  forms  of  social  organization, 
whether  component  or  constituent,  whether  public  or  pri- 
vate, whether  incorporated  or  unincorporated,  are  either 
created  by  social  authority  or  are  permitted  by  it.  Not 
only  so,  but  any  social  organization  may  be  an  agency 
for  the  transmission  of  social  control  to  its  individual 
members.  On  the  one  hand,  it  may  bring  to  bear  upon 
them  a  social  pressure  to  which  they  must  yield,  a  social 
command  which  they  must  perforce  obey.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  may  allow  them  the  utmost  freedom  of  thought 
and  action,  may  even  be  a  means  of  defending  their  indi- 
vidual liberties. 

In  these  features,  we  discover  the  general  character  of 
the  social  organization  of  a  community.  Organization  is 
on  the  whole  coercive,  or  it  is  on  the  whole  liberal. 

Only  one  constituent  society,  namely,  the  state,  em- 
bodies and  manifests  the  entire  authority  and  social 
control  of  the  community.  Lesser  constituent  societies, 
such  as  ecclesiastical,  industrial,  and  fraternal  associations 
embody  the  social  control  that  is  created  by  the  social 
natures  and  relations  of  their  own  members,  or  bring  to 
bear  a  social  control  delegated  to  them  by  the  state.  At 
most,  however,  this  is  very  much  less  than  the  original 
and  complete  social  control  of  the  state  itself.  Whether 
•  216 


The  Character  and  Efficiency  of  Organization      217 

complete  or  partial,  however,  the  social  control  expressed 
through  any  organization  may  have  the  coercive  or  the 
liberal  character. 

Sovereignity.  —  Social  control,  manifesting  itself  in  the 
authoritative  organization  of  society  as  the  state,  and  act- 
ing through  the  organs  of  government,  is  sovereignty. 

As  otherwise  defined  by  writers  on  political  science, 
sovereignty  is  an  original  and  independent  power  to  com- 
pel obedience.  The  word  "original,"  as  used  in  this 
definition,  means  underived  from  any  external  power  or 
authority ;  and  the  word  "  independent "  means  indepen- 
dent of  any  other  state,  nation,  or  ruler.  The  sovereignty 
of  a  state  may  reside  in  a  personal  monarch,  in  a  council, 
group,  or  class,  or  in  the  people.  In  a  certain  sense,  it 
always  resides  in  the  people,  inasmuch  as  a  governing 
council  or  a  personal  sovereign  would  be  helpless  but  for 
those  sentiments  and  habits  of  obedient  loyalty  in  the 
people  which  oblige  them  to  respect  the  command  of  the 
monarch  or  the  law  made  by  the  council. 

The  apparent  inconsistency  here  presented  is  happily 
disposed  of  in  the  analysis  made  by  an  English  jurist, 
Mr.  A.  V.  Dicey,  who  distinguishes  between  legal  sover- 
eignty and  political  sovereignty. 

Legal  sovereignty  is  the  legally  rightful  power  to  com- 
pel obedience  according  to  the  existing  governmental 
system,  which  the  community  has  accepted  and  formed 
the  habit  of  obeying.  This  legal  sovereignty  may  reside 
in  a  personal  monarch,  in  a  parliamentary  body,  or,  as  in 
the  United  States,  in  the  people  acting  in  a  constitution- 
amending  capacity. 

Political  sovereignty  is  the  actual  power  to  compel  obe- 
dience, by  either  legal  or  revolutionary  means.     It  is  the 


2l8  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

power  to  make  governments  and  to  unmake  them ;  to 
organize  the  state  or  to  disorganize  it.  Sovereignty  in 
this  sense,  in  other  words,  the  real  as  distinguished  from 
any  nominal  social  control,  resides  in  the  entire  body  of 
the  people.  It  has  always  resided  there,  and  under  no 
circumstances  can  it  reside  elsewhere. 

The  Source  of  Liberty.  —  From  what  has  been  said  in 
the  chapters  on  The  Social  Mind,  it  is  evident  that  social 
control,  expressing  itself  either  as  sovereignty  —  the  will 
of  the  whole  people  manifesting  itself  through  forms  of 
government  —  or  expressing  itself  in  those  lesser  degrees 
felt  by  the  members  of  non-governmental  associations, 
may  be  so  coercive  that  no  individual  can  successfully 
oppose  it.  If,  therefore,  the  individual  actually  enjoys  a 
j  high  degree  of  liberty,  it  is  because  the  social  mind  per- 
mits him  to  do  so.  It  is  because  the  sovereign  state  cre- 
ates for  him  immunities  and  protects  him  in  the  enjoyment 
of  them.  This  is  a  truth  of  Sociology  and  of  political 
science  which  the  uneducated  man  always  finds  much 
difficulty  in  comprehending.  It  seems  to  him  that  his 
liberty  is  born  with  him ;  that  it  is  a  matter  of  inherent 
right,  and  subject  wholly  to  his  own  will.  This  is  because 
he  fails  to  realize  how  resistless  is  the  power  of  his  fellow- 
men  over  all  his  activities,  and  even  over  his  life  itself, 
if  they  choose  to  put  that  power  in  operation.  If,  at  any 
time,  he  is  so  unfortunate  as  to  fall  under  their  suspicion, 
to  be  taken  by  them  when  they  have  resolved  themselves 
into  an  angry  mob,  and  to  discover  that  he  is  utterly 
helpless  in  their  hands  if  they  choose  to  deal  with  him 
by  the  methods  of  lynch  law,  he  then  realizes  that  his 
liberty  is  not  the  creature  of  his  own  will,  and  that  the 
liberty  which   any  man  actually  enjoys,  he  owes  to  the 


The  Character  and  Efficiency  of  Organization     219 

common  feeling  and  common  judgment  of  the  community 
that  individual  liberty  is,  on  the  whole,  a  good  thing  for  all. 

The  Laws  of  Liberty.  —  From  these  considerations  it  is 
obvious  that  the  character  of  all  social  organization,  in- 
cluding the  state,  and  the  specific  character  of  any  partic- 
ular social  organization  of  the  lesser  sort,  is  determined  by 
the  nature  and  development  of  the  social  mind. 

It  is  plain  to  begin  with  that  we  might  expect  to  see 
far  more  intolerance  of  individual  liberty,  far  more  co- 
ercion in  general,  in  a  community  whose  like-mindedness 
is  of  the  sympathetic,  passionate,  emotional  sort,  than  in 
one  in  which  intelligence  predominates.  We  should  ex- 
pect also  to  see  a  much  higher  development  of  arbitrary 
authority  in  the  community  in  which  belief,  formal  like- 
mindedness,  and  habits  of  conformity  predominate  over 
discussion  and  rational  public  opinion.  These  presup- 
positions are  wholly  warranted  by  observation  and  histori- 
cal induction. 

The  First  Law  may  be  stated  as  follows  :  ; 

Social  organization  is  coercive  in  those  connnunities  ifi 
which  sympathetic  and  formal  like-mindedness  strongly  pre- 
dominate over  rational  like-mindedness.     Conversely^  social 
institutions  are   liberal^  allowing  the  utmost  freedom  of     j 
thought  and  actiofz  to  the  individual  only  in  those  communi-    j 
ties  in  zvhich  there  is  a  high  development  of  rational  like 
mindedness. 

A  second  law  is  of  not  less  importance.  A  community 
may  be  extremely  heterogeneous  as  a  result  either  of  con- 
quest or  of  a  rapid  immigration  of  alien  elements.  In 
this  case,  like-mindedness  of  any  kind  may  be  very  slight. 
Under  these  circumstances,  the  social  organization  is  co- 
ercive. 


'J 


220  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

In  analyzing  the  mental  development  of  the  socius, 
attention  was  directed  to  the  power  of  a  strong  mind  to 
influence  or  fascinate  minds  of  less  personal  force.  It 
was  pointed  out  also  that  the  fear-inspiring  modes  of 
impression  exist  chiefly  where  the  personal  elements  in 
combination  are  much  unlike ;  and  that  familiarity  and  re- 
semblance always  tend  to  diminish  fear.  In  heterogeneous 
communities,  it  is  always  some  form  of  personal  leader- 
ship, either  that  which  grows  out  of  fear  or  that  which 
grows  out  of  fascination,  that  is  the  nucleus  of  organiza- 
tion. Men  who  are  not  sympathetic,  who  do  not  under- 
stand each  other,  who  therefore  cannot  arrive  at  intellectual 
agreement,  obviously  cannot  cooperate  of  their  own  free  ini- 
tiative. Their  cooperation  in  political,  industrial,  or  religious 
matters  is  possible  only  if,  in  their  inability  to  organize 
themselves,  a  leader  is  forthcoming  who  can  organize  them. 
The  more  heterogeneous  they  are,  the  more  certainly  will 
their  obedience  spring  from  fear,  and  under  such  circum- 
stances the  more  certainly  will  his  rule  be  coercive. 

This  principle  has  always  been  clearly  exemplified  in 
ecclesiastical  polity.  That  most  democratic  of  organiza- 
tions, the  Congregational  polity,  has  never  been  successful 
in  a  heterogeneous  population,  which  can  be  organized 
only  in  an  authoritative  system.  In  like  manner,  political 
democracy  invariably  evolves  the  tyrant  or  the  boss,  if  the 
population  becomes  extremely  heterogeneous.  In  Ameri- 
can cities,  the  old  forms  of  deliberative  government  have 
broken  down  with  the  influx  of  foreign  immigration ;  and 
we  have  adopted  the  theory  that  cities  are  business  cor- 
porations for  which  even  by-laws  and  ordinances  should 
be  made  by  state  legislatures,  and  in  which  administration 
should   be   the    one-man   power   of    an   elected    dictator. 


The  Character  and  Efficiency  of  Organization      221 

Without  the  highly  developed  consciousness  of  kind  of  a 
relatively  homogeneous  population,  there  can  be  no  suc- 
cessful experiment  of  democracy. 

The  Second  Law. —  Generalizing  these  facts,  it  appears 
that  the  forms  of  social  organization,  zvfiether  political  or 
othery  in  their  relation  to  the  individual^  are  necessarily  co- 
ercive if  in  their  membership,  there  is  great  diversity  of 
kind  and  great  inequality.  Conversely,  institutions  or  other 
forms  of  social  organization  can  be  liberal,  conceding  the,^ 
utmost  freedom  to  the  individual  if,  in  the  population,  there  '' 
is  fraternity  and,  back  of  fraternity,  an  approximate  mental 
and  moral  equality. 

The  facts  which  the  foregoing  laws  express  are  in-1 
volved,  and  they  always  complicate  or  modify  one  another. 
Thus,  in  the  heterogeneous  community,  such  like-minded- 
ness  as  exists  is  for  the  most  part  of  the  sympathetic 
kind ;  to  a  less  extent  of  the  formal  kind ;  and  least  of  all 
intellectual  or  rational.  This  is  because,  as  was  pointed 
out  in  the  chapters  on  The  Social  Mind,  men  differ  less  in 
feeling  than  in  intelligence ;  and  this  of  course  is  in  the 
highest  degree  true  of  individuals  of  differing  races  or 
nationalities.  Men  of  every  race  are  alike  subjects  of 
sensation,  of  physical  pain,  and  of  the  primary  emotions 
of  fear,  hate,  and  affection ;  while  comparatively  few  men 
can  arrive  at  perfect  intellectual  agreement  upon  compli- 
cated problems  of  either  theoretical  or  practical  interest. 

Consequently,  in  the  heterogeneous  population,  not* 
only  does  the  unlike-mindedness  there  existing  necessi- 
tate coercive  forms  of  organization  in  the  manner  that 
has  been  explained,  but  also  such  like-mindedness  as  there 
is,  taking  the  sympathetic  and  conventional  form,  creates 
coercive  rather  than  liberal  types  of  organizatiJaii. 


222  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

Efficiency  of  Organization.  —  In  its  higher  development, 
all  social  organization  exists  for  a  purpose  or  end.  The 
purpose  may  not  be  consciously  thought  of  by  its  members 
at  the  outset.  The  cooperating  group  may  at  first  be  a 
mere  accidental  arrangement.  But  if  it  proves  useful  in 
any  way,  and  the  utility  is  perceived,  the  organization  is 
deliberately  cherished  and  perfected  for  the  sake  of  the 
end  to  which  it  ministers.  In  the  highly  developed 
societies  of  civilized  men,  the  entire  social  organization, 
including  the  component  societies,  has  thus  been  reflected 
upon  by  the  social  mind,  and  has  been  made  purposive  in 
character. 

The  lesser  constituent  societies  have  most  varied  and 
highly  special  objects  in  view;  the  general  object  of  in- 
tegral society  is  the  protection  and  perfection  of  life,  and 
especially  the  development  of  the  rational  and  spiritual 
personality  of  mankind  ;  consequently,  all  social  organ- 
ization must  be  studied  by  the  sociologist,  not  only  from 
the  standpoint  of  its  plan  or  system,  and  of  its  character 
as  more  or  less  liberal,  but  also  from  the  standpoint  of  its 
efficiency  as  a  means  to  the  attainment  of  the  special  and 
general  ends  to  promote  which  it  exists. 

Organization  must  Benefit  the  Orgatiized.  —  The  general 
condition  upon  which  the  efficiency  of  social  organization 
depends  by  implication  is  stated  when  it  is  said  that  any 
association  exists  for  the  protection  and  development  of 
the  lives  of  its  individual  members.  Since  an  organization 
depends  upon  the  loyal  and  earnest  cooperation  of  its 
members,  its  efficiency  depends  upon  their  devotion  to  it. 
Their  devotion,  in  turn,  depends  upon  their  conviction 
that,  in  the  long  run,  they  actually  secure  the  benefits, 
including  all  possible  pleasures  and  utilities  of  association. 


The  Character  and  Efficiency  of  Organization      223 

Putting  it  in  briefer  terms  we  may  say  that,  to  be  efficient, 
all  social  organizations  must  be  regarded  by  the  organized  ^ 
as  beneficial  to  themselves. 

Simple  and  obvious  as  this  truth  is,  no  principle  in 
human  affairs  is  more  frequently  forgotten,  and  no  prin- 
ciple has  been  more  frequently  neglected  in  governmental 
policy. 

We  have  seen  that  nearly  every  social  organization  has 
a  constitution  of  some  kind ;  it  has  either  a  leader,  or  a 
governing  council,  or  administrative  bureaus,  which  directly 
carry  on  its  activities  supposedly  for  the  benefit  of  the 
general  membership.  The  individuals  who  compose  these 
inner  governing  circles  are  prone  to  forget  that  they  are 
the  servants  of  the  entire  association.  Busied  with  the 
detail  of  governmental  work,  they  easily  fall  into  the  habit 
of  identifying  themselves  with  the  interests  and  ends  of 
the  association ;  and  then  they  easily  mistake  themselves 
for  the  association,  and  forget  the  interests  of  their  fellow- 
members.  Thus  there  is  always  within  an  association  a 
tendency  to  make  it  exist  not  for  the  benefit  of  its  entire 
membership,  but  for  the  benefit  of  its  governing  individ- 
uals. 

Even  where  this  tendency  is  held  in  subordination, 
there  is  always  danger  that  the  governing  circle  may  mis- 
take its  own  ideas  of  what  is  politic,  just,  or  wise  in  admin- 
istration for  the  ideas  of  the  general  membership,  and  so 
create  divisions  and  finally  disruption. 

Illustrations  of  these  truths  may  be  drawn  from  every 
form  of  social  organization.  They  have  been  most  con- 
spicuously demonstrated  in  such  bodies  as  trade  unions, 
business  corporations,  ecclesiastical  societies,  and  political 
parties.      The   entire   history   of   the   Protestant   church 


224  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

could  be  written  from  this  point  of  view.  It  was  because 
the  governing  hierarchy  of  the  Roman  Catholic  church 
failed  sufficiently  to  regard  the  convictions  and  the  well- 
being  of  the  entire  body  of  its  membership,  that  the 
Protestant  schism  began.  It  was  in  like  manner  because 
the  great  established  churches,  namely,  the  Lutheran  in 
Germany  and  the  Episcopalian  in  England,  failed  to 
study  the  convictions  and  the  interests  of  their  member- 
ship that  further  dissensions  arose,  and  the  Non-conform- 
ist bodies  came  into  existence. 

Of  all  examples,  however,  that  history  affords  of  the 
great  truth  that  organization  must  be  for  the  benefit  of 
the  organized,  the  colonial  policy  of  the  European  nations 
has  been  the  most  striking.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  in 
the  early  days  of  colonial  policy  not  the  slightest  attention 
was  ever  given  to  the  practical  truth  that  colonies  should 
be  governed  for  the  benefit  of  the  colonial  population. 
Statesmen  had  but  one  thought,  which  was  to  make 
colonies  a  source  of  wealth  and  power  to  the  mother 
country.  Spain,  England,  and  France  all  pursued  the 
fatuous  policy  of  extorting  the  utmost  from  their  colonial 
possessions  in  utter  disregard  of  the  economic  and  moral 
interests  of  the  colonies;  and  one  after  another  these 
nations  lost  the  loyalty  of  their  colonial  peoples,  and 
ultimately  the  colonial  territories  themselves.  England 
alone  learned  the  lesson  of  this  experience  ;  and,  as  a 
result  of  the  great  awakening  of  her  political  intelligence 
which  followed  the  loss  of  her  American  colonies  through 
the  Revolutionary  War,  she  perceived  that  henceforward 
she  must  retain  her  remaining  colonies  by  making  them 
feel  that  they  were  component  parts  of  the  great  British 
Empire,  sharing  in  all  its  interests,  and  in  full  measure 


The  Character  and  Efficiency  of  Organization     225 

participating  in  its  benefits.  This  policy  she  has  faith- 
fully and  consistently  pursued  to  the  present  day,  with 
results  of  colonial  loyalty  which  all  the  world  knows. 

Moral  Qualities.  —  If,  then,  to  be  efficient,  social  or- 
ganization must  be  regarded  by  the  organized  as  obviously 
beneficial  to  themselves,  it  further  follows  that  efficiency 
depends  upon  the  existence  in  the  community  of  so  much 
honesty,  unselfishness,  and  loyalty  that  enough  men  can 
be  found  to  work  faithfully  and  unselfishly  for  the  gen- 
eral good,  sincerely  endeavouring  so  to  administer  the 
affairs  of  the  organization  that  employs  them,  or  of  the 
government  in  which  they  serve,  that  the  general  good 
rather  than  their  own  individual  interests  shall  ever  be 
kept  in  view  as  the  supreme  end.  No  community  can 
hope  to  have  an  efficient  social  organization  if  the  general 
moral  level  of  its  individuals  is  so  low  that  they  can  think 
only  of  their  personal  ambitions,  and  strive  only  to  use 
their  official  positions  for  their  personal  advancement. 
The  entire  social  organization  of  a  community  is  endan- 
gered when  public  office  ceases  to  be  a  public  trust,  when 
votes  are  bought  and  sold,  when  legislatures  are  bribed, 
and  when  administrative  business  is  deranged  and  cor- 
rupted by  unworthy  means. 

Recognition  of  Expert  Knowledge.  —  Finally,  the  effi-  J 
ciency  of  social  organization  depends  upon  a  general  , 
recognition  of  the  vital  importance  of  expert  knowledge. 
The  entire  social  constitution  is  an  expression  of  the  grea. 
principle  of  the  economic  advantage  of  a  division  of  labour 
Each  little  association  has  for  its  special  function  the  per- 
formance  of  some  specific  kind  of  social  work  which  could 
not  be  as  well  done  by  any  other  group  of  men.  Obvi- 
ously, this  plan  can  be  fully  and  successfully  carried  out 
Q 


226  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

only  if  the  division  of  labour  is  real,  and  not  merely  nominal 
or  a  pretence.  In  like  manner,  in  the  constitution  of  each 
larger  society  and  of  the  government,  each  particular  kind 
of  work  must  be  performed  by  those  who  have  a  special 
aptitude  for  it,  if  there  is  to  be  any  real  advantage  in 
maintaining  a  highly  specialized  social  constitution  at  all. 
At  the  head  of  every  branch  of  affairs  must  be  the  men 
who  are  more  competent  to  deal  with  them  than  anybody 
else  is. 

This  condition  of  things  can  be  secured  only  if  the 
community  has  some  comprehension  of  what  expert  know- 
ledge is,  and  is  determined  to  secure  it.  In  order  to  secure 
it,  however,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  men  shall  be 
appointed  to  office  solely  on  the  ground  of  their  fitness  for 
the  work  that  they  are  expected  to  do.  If  they  are  ap- 
pointed because  they  are  personal  relatives  of  men  in 
superior  authority,  or  because,  as  political  workers,  they 
have  helped  to  elect  to  office  the  men  who  appoint  them, 
or  because,  irrespective  of  any  abilities  that  they  possess, 
they  have  long  been  devoted  to  some  particular  clique  or 
party,  it  is  certain  that  the  efficiency  of  the  social  organi- 
zation must  suffer. 

Demoralization  reaches  its  extreme  limit  when  the  prac- 
tice of  appointment  to  office  for  other  reasons  than  fitness 
for  the  work  to  be  done  becomes  an  organized  system  of 
distributing  offices  as  the  spoils  of  the  victory  over  oppo- 
nents in  an  election.  The  movement  which  is  popularly 
known  as  civil  service  reform,  is  the  protest  against  all 
such  plans  of  corrupting  the  public  service  in  the  interests 
of  a  party  or  a  governing  class.  It  is  an  organized  insist- 
ence that  fitness,  in  the  sense  of  expert  knowledge,  demon- 
strated by  the  successful  performance  of  duty  in  subordinate 


The  Character  and  Efficiency  of  Organization      22; 

positions,  shall  be  the  sole  ground  of  advancement  to  posl 
tions  of  larger  responsibility. 

Results  of  Organization.  — The  final  tests  of  the  efficiency 
of  social  organization  are  to  be  looked  f^r  in  the  results 
which  organization  brings  about  in  the  economic,  intellect- 
ual, and  moral  life  of  the  community,  and  especially  in 
the  development  of  an  improving  type  of  human  person- 
ality. 

Wealth.  —  Perhaps  no  other  one  result  of  a  highly  per-  /  ^ 
fected  social  organization  is  so  conspicuous  as  is  the  in- 
crease of  wealth.  Of  all  the  conditions  upon  which  the 
growth  of  wealth  depends,  probably  no  other  one  is  so 
important  as  the  capacity  of  the  people  to  organize  them- 
selves in  innumerable  forms  of  association  for  carrying  on 
industrial  and  commercial  activity.  Cooperation  and  a 
division  of  labour  can  transform  the  most  forbidding  ele- 
ments into  prosperity.  Where  these  are  lacking,  no 
wealth  of  natural  resources,  no  accumulations  of  capital, 
no  possession  of  ingenious  machinery  will  enable  a  com- 
munity to  amass  riches,  or  even  to  live  in  material  com- 
fort. Nothing  can  be  more  pitiful  than  a  state  which  is 
able  to  purchase  improved  mechanisms  —  battleships  and 
artillery,  for  example  —  from  a  more  ingenious  nation 
than  itself,  and  is  then  unable  to  handle  them  to  advan- 
tage because  of  a  total  incapacity  for  social  organization 
and  discipline.  Among  the  most  important  practical 
studies  to  be  made  in  Sociology  will  be  one  to  ascertain 
the  relations  between  sociological  and  economic  poverty. 
Whenever  a  commonwealth,  whose  people  are  impover- 
ished and  burdened  with  mortgages  and  other  debts,  is 
observed  to  appeal  continually  to  its  government  to  enact 
laws  of  a  socialistic  nature,  or  to  undertake  industrial  and 


228  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

commercial  enterprises  for  the  benefit  of  a  suffering  popu- 
lation, the  first  inquiry  made  should  ascertain  whether 
that  commonwealth  is  not  really  suffering  from  sociologi- 
cal poverty  —  from  a  certain  incapacity  or  lack  of  enter- 
prise to  organize  those  varied  forms  of  voluntary  association 
by  which,  in  other  communities,  great  economic  activities 
are  succesfully  maintained. 

The  Diminution  of  Fear.  —  Next  to  the  increase  of 
wealth,  the  most  important  result  of  efficient  social  organ- 
ization is  the  diminution  of  fear  and  of  superstition,  the 
decline  of  emotionalism,  and  the  corresponding  increase 
of  discussion  and  rationality. 

We  may  seem  here  to  be  reasoning  in  a  circle,  since 
it  has  already  been  affirmed  that  the  most  efficient  social 
organization  depends  for  its  existence  upon  a  high  de- 
velopment of  rational  like-minded'ness.  This  is  quite 
true;  but  it  is  not  less  true  that  if,  as  a  result  of  a  cer- 
tain existing  degree  of  rationality,  the  social  organization 
is  relatively  efficient,  the  efficiency  will  react  upon  intelli- 
gence, further  enlarging  and  developing  it.  The  process 
is  analogous  to  that  of  physiological  life,  in  which  the 
ability  to  use  nerves  and  muscles  in  obtaining  food  is 
due  to  the  assimilation  of  food  previously  obtained,  and, 
in  its  turn,  insures  new  supplies  of  food,  which,  when 
enjoyed  and  assimilated,  restore  and  increase  the  ability 
to  obtain.  All  that  we  intend  to  affirm  is  that  rational 
like-mindedness  and  efficiency  of  social  organization  con- 
tinually react  upon  one  another,  each  furthering  the 
development  of  the  other. 

When  men  live  in  isolation,  cut  off  from  the  coopera- 
tion of  their  fellows,  they  are  relatively  helpless ;  and, 
when  helpless,  they  easily  become  the  prey  of  fear.     The 


TJie  Character  and  Efficiency  of  Organization      229 

helplessness  is  not  only  in  their  relation  to  enemies  of 
their  own  species,  but  even  more  in  their  relation  to  the 
physical  elements.  Against  fire  and  flood  and  tempest, 
the  individual  man  has  very  little  power. 

When  man  is  helpless  and  subject  to  fear,  he  is  also 
the  victim  of  ignorance  and  of  superstition.  The  know- 
ledge that  the  single  individual  can  acquire  in  his  short 
lifetime  is  infinitesimal  as  measured  by  the  limitless 
domain  of  nature  and  of  history  —  the  totality  of  things 
to  be  known.  Only  as  his  own  discoveries  can  be  sup- 
plemented by  communicated  knowledge,  obtained  by  his 
fellow-beings,  can  he  have  any  real  command  over  nature 
and  life. 

As  a  creature  of  superstition,  of  ignorance,  and  of  fear, 
man  is  almost  wholly  a  creature  of  emotion;  rational 
deliberation  plays  but  little  part  in  his  conduct.  Conse- 
quently, populations  in  which  there  is  no  systematic  com- 
munication, no  continual  exchange  of  knowledge,  and  no 
discussion  of  principles,  are  subject  to  impulsive  social 
action.  They  seldom  exhibit  a  calm  and  firm  restraint 
of  passion.  They  know  little  of  that  deliberately  planned 
conduct  which  is  the  product  of  rational  like-mindedness. 

An  efficient  social  organization  transforms  these  condi- 
tions. Disciplined  cooperation  establishes  security ;  sys- 
tematic communication  diffuses  knowledge  and  stimulates 
critical  inquiry.  Knowledge  and  investigation  give  com- 
mand over  natural  forces.  Those  nations  in  which  social 
organization  is  highly  developed  are  emancipated  from 
superstition  and  from  fear ;  they  are  able  to  rise  supe- 
rior to  emotion  and  impulse ;  they  believe  in  scientific 
investigation ;  they  have  habits  of  calm  and  disciplined 
action. 


// 


II 


230  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

/^  Accordingly  we  have  the  law  of  mental  emancipation, 
as  follows : 

Fear^  superstition^  emotionalism,  and  impulsive  action 
diminish  with  the  evolution  of  efficient  social  organization. 

The  Supreme  Result  of  efficient  social  organization,  and 
the  supreme  test  of  efficiency,  is  the  development  of  the 
socius,  or  the  personality  of  the  social  man.  If  the  man 
himself  becomes  less  social,  less  rational,  less  manly;  if 
he  falls  from  the  highest  type,  which  seeks  self-realiza- 
tion, to  one  of  those  lower  types  that  manifest  only  the 
primitive  virtues  of  power;  if  he  becomes  non-social  or 
anti-social  —  the  social  organization,  whatever  its  apparent 
merits,  is  failing  to  achieve  its  supreme  object.  If,  on 
the  contrary,  the  man  is  becoming  ever  better  as  a  human 
being,  more  rational,  more  sympathetic,  with  an  ever- 
broadening  consciousness  of  kind  —  then,  whatever  its 
apparent  defects,  the  social  organization  is  sound  and 
efficient. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Read  Burke's  "Thoughts  on  the  Present  Discontents";  Proal's 
"Political  Crime";  and  the  annual  reports  of  the  American  Civil 
Service  Reform  Association. 


J* 

CHAPTER  XX 

The  Early  History  of  Society 

Zoogenic  Association.  —  Here  and  there  in  the  foregoing 
pages,  mention  has  been  made  of  a  process  of  evolution 
in  human  society.  It  has  been  assumed  that  social  ideas 
and  social  organizations,  as  we  have  known  them,  have 
grown  from  simpler  beginnings.  As  a  result  of  the  la- 
bours of  biologists,  anthropologists,  and  ethnologists,  of 
the  labours  also  of  the  students  of  language  and  of  folk- 
lore, much  knowledge  has  been  accumulated  about  the 
beginnings  and  early  history  of  society.  The  assumptions 
in  regard  to  social  evolution  that  have  thus  far  been  made 
in  our  pages  have  been  based  upon  this  knowledge.  While 
it  is  impossible  in  a  small  text-book  to  present  anything 
like  a  complete  account  of  the  historical  evolution  of  so- 
ciety, even  an  elementary  work  on  Sociology  would  be 
incomplete  if  it  did  not  include  a  brief  summary  of  what 
is  known  on  this  subject.  Accordingly,  we  will  now  glance 
at  some  of  the  chiefly  interesting  facts  and  speculations 
touching  social  development. 

The  Social  Ancestor  of  Man.  —  Thus  far  but  little  men- 
tion has  been  made  in  these  pages  of  any  other  society 
than  that  of  human  beings.  It  is  well  known,  however,  to  all 
who  are  familiar  with  animal  life,  that  me&t  animal  species 
are  social  in  their  instincts,  and  that  they  live  in  such  social 
groups  as  swarms,  flocks,  bands,  and  herds.     This  is  true 

231 


232  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

of  insects,  birds,  and  most  of  the  mammalia,  and  especially 
of  such  species  as  the  various  ruminants,  the  horses,  the 
elephants,  the  monkeys,  and  the  apes. 

It  is  held  by  evolutionists  that  from  an  ape-like  creature, 
no  longer  perfectly  represented  in  any  surviving  species, 
the  human  race  itself  is  descended.  The  sociologist  has 
no  immediate  concern  with  the  vast  mass  of  biological  and 
palaeontological  evidence  which  establishes  the  Darwinian 
theory  of  the  descent  of  man  from  the  lower  forms  of 
life.  It  is,  however,  a  sociological  question  whether  man 
is  descended  from  an  unsocial  species,  every  individual  or 
pair  of  which  lived  an  isolated  life,  or  from  a  highly  social 
species  that  had  already  formed  the  habit  of  living  in 
bands  for  the  enjoyment  of  social  pleasure  and  for  com- 
mon protection  and  cooperation.  In  other  words,  it  is  a 
sociological  question  whether  the  human  race  is  descended 
from  a  single  pair  or  from  an  entire  species  which  lived  i 
in  communities  and,  as  a  species,  slowly  developed  into 

1  human  form  and  intelligence.  Did  the  race  become  .sor.ial 
after  becoming  human,  or  did  it  become  human  after 
becoming  social.? 

r     There  is  hardly  a  single  fact  in  the  whole  range  of  socio- 

'    logical  knowledge  that  does  not  support  the  conclusion  that 

s/    the  race  was  social  before  it  was  human,  and  that  its  social 

qualities  were  the  chief  means  of  developing  its  human 

I  nature. 

\-^'To  begin  with,  we  know  that,  to  some  extent,  all  exist- 
( 1/  i^g  varieties  of  human  beings  are  social.  The  lowest 
savage  hordes  are  in  a  measure  possessed  of  sympathetic 
instincts  and  of  habits  of  cooperation.  We  also  know  that, 
while  nearly  all  animal  species  are  social  in  instinct  and 
habits,  this   is   preeminently  true   of   those   species   that 


The  Early  History  of  Society  233 

most  nearly  approach  man  in  anatomical  and  psychologi- 
cal characteristics.  The  social  affections  of  many  varie- 
ties of  apes  and  monkeys  are  of  almost  human  intensity. 
Therefore,  it  would  be  a  most  strange  and  unwarranted 
assumption  to  suppose  that  between  the  social  species 
from  which  man  is  known  to  be  descended  and  man  him- 
self as  a  social  being,  there  was  an  ancestral  link  that 
was  itself  non-social,  and  lived  an  isolated  life,  without 
communication  with  fellow-creatures. 

In  the  second  place,  there  is  strong  reason  to  suppose 
that  social  habits  have  played  an  exceedingly  important 
part  in  those  processe  ;  of  animal  evolution  that  are  known 
as  differentiation^  vaiialion,  and  survival. 


The  great  variety  that  we  see  in  organic  life,  both  vege- 
table and  animal,  has  chiefly  been  produced  by  the  combi- 
nation of  differing  elements  in  mating  and  reproduction. 
Whenever  variations  tnus  produced  have  proved  beneficial, 
either  by  enabling  their  possessors  better  to  withstand 
rigours  of  heat  or  cold,  or  other  peculiarities  of  climate,  or 
more  successfully  to  obtain  food,  or  more  skilfully  to  com- 
bat or  to  evade  enemies,  they  have  tended  to  persist,  through 
the  survival  of  the  individuals  in  which  they  were  inherent. 
When,  on  the  contrary,  variations  have  tended  to  weakness 
or  incapacity,  they  have  themselves  disappeared  through 
the  disappearance  of  their  unfortunate  possessors. 

The  tendency  of  all  forms  of  life  is  to  multiply  with  such 
rapidity  that  extreme  difficulty  is  experienced  by  the  race 
or  species  in  obtaining  sufficient  food  supplies.  Those  in- 
dividuals that  are  best  equipped  with  characteristics  of 
body  and  of  intelligence  that  are  called  for  in  the  life 
struggle  at  their  particular  time  and  place,  are  the  fortu- 
nate  ones   that   survive.      Through   their   survival,   their 


234  '^^^^  Elements  of  Sociology 

characteristics  and  abilities  are  established  in  the  species. 
This  is  the  process  called  natural  selection,  or  the  survival 
of  the  fittest. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  phrase  "  the  survival  of 
the  fittest "  does  not  always  mean  the  survival  of  the  best, 
as  is  often  erroneously  supposed.  It  means  merely  the 
survival  of  those  best  fitted  or  adapted  to  the  conditions  of 
life  in  which  their  lot  is  cast.  For  example,  the  death  of 
Europeans,  and  the  survival  of  brutal  savages  on  the  fever- 
ridden  western  coast  of  Africa,  is  a  survival  of  the  fittest, 
since  it  is  a  survival  of  those  who  are,  by  nature,  adapted 
to  live  in  that  region  —  though  we  should  hardly  call  it  a 
survival  of  the  best.  LNatural  selection,  then,  is  simply 
the  weeding  out  by  disease,  accident,  death,  and  conquest 
of  those  individuals,  varieties,  and  species  that  are  not 
adapted  to  the  conditions  of  existence  in  which  they  find 
themselves,  and  the  survival  of  those  that  are  adapted. ) 

TJie  Survival  of  the  Best.  —  So  far,  this  is  not  difficult 
to  understand.  But  a  further  question  is.  How  does  it 
happen  that  the  survival  of  the  fittest  really  has  been,  on 
the  whole,  the  survival  of  the  best;  in  other  words,  the 
survival  of  the  most  intelligent,  the  most  sympathetic, 
truthful,  and  helpful  t  One  has  only  to  glance  back 
over  the  long  succession  of  species  throughout  geological 
time,  as  revealed  in  fossil  remains,  to  see  that  the  succes- 
sion was  a  progression  from  the  unintelligent  to  the  intelli- 
gent, and  that,  speaking  generally,  the  latest  species  to 
appear  were  the  best  endowed  with  brain  and  nervous 
organization. 

It  is  the  belief  of  the  present  author  that  the  answer  to 
this  question  can  never  be  given  by  the  biologist  or  the 
palaeontologist  without  the  aid  of  the  sociologist. 


The  Early  History  of  Society  235 

The  reason  why  in  the  long  run  the  survival  of  the 
fittest  has  been  the  survival  of  the  best,  is  to  be  found  in 
the  obvious  importance  of  the  social  instinct  in  the  strug- 
gle for  existence.  '  \ 

Association  and  mutual  aid  have  been  ^  chief  means  of  ' 
establishing  new  varieties  of  animal  life.  This  they  have 
done  by  creating  sympathies  and  antipathies  that  have 
controlled  mating  and  reproduction.  Some  individuals 
have  been  unable  to  unite  in  the  reproduction  of  their 
species  simply  because  of  social  antipathies.  Others  have 
as  inevitably  united  because  of  social  sympathies. 

Further  than  this,  these  same  antipathies  and  sympa- 
thies have  secured  the  stability  of  new  forms  when  once 
produced,  by  protecting  them  from  the  further  variation 
that  would  result  from  cross  breeding. 

Yet  further,  among  animals  survival  has  perhaps  more 
often  been  due  to  sympathy  and  mutual  aid  than  to  any 
other  one  cause.  Before  man  appeared  on  the  earth,  the 
fiercer  carnivora  were  already  tending  towards  extinction, 
while  the  gentle,  physically  weak,  and  apparently  defence- 
less herbiverous  and  frugiverous  species  were  rapidly  in- 
creasing. The  ability  of  the  latter  to  survive  and  multiply 
was  almost  wholly  due  to  the  defence  that  they  enjoyed 
in  their  social  habit  of  cooperation. 

Admitting,  then,  that  throughout  the  history  of  animal 
life  the  social  instinct  has  been  one  of  the  chief  means  of 
survival,  it  becomes  easy  to  say  why  the  survival  of  the 
fittest  has  been  the  survival  of  the  best.  In  the  chapter 
on  The  Social  Nature  it  was  shown  that  social  life  develops 
intelligence  and  the  moral  virtues.  The  possession  of 
intelligence  and  moral  qualities,  including  sympathy  and 
affection,  is  what  we  mean  by  "the  best."     Consequently 


236  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

if  social  habit  has  been  an  important  factor  in  the  struggle 
for  existence,  natural  selection  has  inevitably  been  sup- 
pressing the  unintelligent  and  the  unsympathetic,  and 
preserving  their  betters. 

Thus  we  have  every  reason  to  suppose  that  society 
originated  ages  before  man  appeared  on  the  earth;  and 
that  sympathies,  affections,  social  instincts,  and  habits  of 
mutual  aid  were  well  developed  in  many  species  of  animals 
long  before  any  one  of  them  had  begun  to  assume  the 
human  form.  The  first  chapter,  then,  in  the  early  history 
of  society,  is  one  that  takes  us  far  back  into  geological 
times. 

Maris  Social  Allies.  —  Apart  from  the  fact  that  human- 
ity probably  started  upon  its  career  with  an  endowment  of 
social  instinct  and  habit  already  well  formed,  mankind 
owes  another  great  debt  to  the  social  evolution  of  animal 
life.  It  is  more  than  doubtful  whether  any  progress  in 
civilization  could  have  been  made  if  man  had  been  unable 
to  tame  and  domesticate  some  of  the  lower  animals. 

Before  command  of  the  physical  forces  was  achieved 
through  the  invention  of  machinery,  man  was  dependent 
for  many  forms  of  service  upon  such  animals  as  the  ele- 
phant, the  ox,  and  the  horse.  Moreover,  in  many  parts  of 
the  world  where  civilization  has  attained  its  highest  forms, 
a  sufficient  food  supply  to  maintain  a  dense  population  has 
been  possible  only  through  the  systematic  rearing  of  such 
domesticated  animals  as  cattle  and  sheep. 

The  taming  and  domestication  of  animals,  however, 
would  have  been  quite  impossible  had  they  not  first  acquired 
in  association  a  teachable  disposition  and  a  high  intelli- 
gence. 

Anthropogenic  Association.  —  The  social  life  of   animals 


The  Early  History  of  Society  237 

may  be  called  a  zoogenic  association,  because  its  chief 
result  has  been  the  differentiation  and  development  of  the 
varied  forms  of  animal  life  and  the  development  of  animal 
intelligence. 

In  like  manner  the  beginnings  of  human  society  may  be 
spoken  of  as  anthropogenic  association,  because  the  chief 
result  of  it  was  the  development  of  human  characteristics, 
and  especially  of  the  human,  in  distinction  from  the  ani- 
mal, mind. 

Mans  Early  Home,  — Since  we  do  not  know  just  when 
and  where  took  place  the  transformation  of  a  species  that 
closely  resembled  the  human  race  into  a  race  that  could, 
in  strictness,  be  called  human,  and  since  there  are  no 
records  of  the  social  habits  of  that  species,  we  are  unable 
to  ascertain  very  much  about  the  earliest  beginnings  of 
human  society.  There  are,  however,  a  few  known  facts 
which  it  is  worth  while  to  call  to  mind. 

The  fossil  remains  of  those  highest  and  now  extinct 
varieties  of  apes,  whose  skeletons  most  closely  approach 
that  of  man,  are  found  along  an  irregular  zone  that 
stretches  from  the  valley  of  the  Thames  in  England 
through  the  valleys  of  the  Seine  and  the  Garonne  in 
France,  through  northern  Africa  and  southern  India  to 
Java.  The  earliest  undoubtedly  human  remains  are  found 
scattered  throughout  the  same  zone.  In  Java  has  been 
found  the  Pithecanthropus  erectiis,  which  the  best  anatomists 
have  decided  is  a  true  intermediate  link  between  ape  and 
man.  It  is,  therefore,  highly  probable  that  somewhere 
within  this  zone,  stretching  from  Java  to  southern  Eng- 
land, the  origin  of  the  human  species  was  slowly  effected 
through  minute  modifications  of  brain  and  form,  which 
probably  occupied  thousands  of  years  in  their  accomplish- 


k. 


238  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

ment;  and  that  it  was  throughout  this  zone  that  the  first 
bands  of  human  beings  lived  and  wandered,  some  of  them 
in  the  southeast  developing  into  dark  races,  and  others  in 
the  northwest  into  light  races. 

It  is  also  highly  probable  that  the  earliest  human  beings 
lived  in  rather  large  bands  or  communities,  because  they 
dwelt  in  regions  where  such  food  supplies  as  they  needed 
were  relatively  abundant.  It  is  fallacious  to  argue  from 
the  hard  life  and  scanty  subsistence  of  the  lowest  hordes 
of  human  beings  now  living  in  such  remote  regions  as 
Tierra  del  Fuego,  the  Australian  forests,  and  the  Arctic 
Highlands,  that  primitive  men  were  as  ill  fed  and  neces- 
sarily lived  in  such  small  groups.  It  is  certain  that  human 
life  did  not  begin  in  the  remote  and  barren  corners  of  the 
globe.  Those  unfortunate  peoples  that  now  dwell  there 
have  been  driven  into  them  by  powerful  enemies  who 
have  dispossessed  them  of  better  lands  that  they  once 
enjoyed. 

The  Origin  of  Speech.  —  Slight  as  is  our  possible  know- 
ledge of  primitive  human  society,  we  know  one  fact  about 
it  with  certainty ;  and  it  is  the  most  interesting  fact  in  the 
entire  history  of  the  human  race.  It  was  in  the  earliest 
stages  of  the  social  life  of  that  species  which  was  develop- 
ing into  man,  that  the  calls  and  cries  of  animals  were 
developed  into  articulate  speech,  and  that  the  power  to 
think  in  terms  of  concepts  or  abstract  ideas  was  acquired. 

The  great  difference  between  the  mind  of  man  and 
that  of  lower  animals  is  in  man's  power  of  conceptual 
thought  and  of  predicative  speech.  These  two  terms 
must  be  explained  together.  We  form,  a  concept  when 
we  succeed  in  forming  the  idea  of  a  class  of  things,  or, 
as  we  otherwise  say,  a  general  idea.      If,   for  example, 


The  Early  History  of  Society  239 

after  we  have  seen  scores  or  hundreds  of  pine  trees,  we 
can  think  of  pine  trees  in  general  without  limiting  the 
mental  picture  to  the  memory  of  some  particular  pine 
tree,  we  have  formed  a  concept  of  that  general  class  of 
things,  pine  trees.  In  like  manner,  if  t^e  word  "  man  " 
brings  to  mind  a  general  notion  of  the  human  being  rather 
than  a  picture  of  some  particular  human  being,  we  are 
able  to  think  of  man  in  terms  of  concepts. 

It  is  certain  that  the  more  intelligent  animals  have 
made  a  near  approach  to  the  power  of  conceptual  think- 
ing ;  but  it  is  equally  certain  that  if,  now  and  then,  they 
do  form  true  concepts,  they  are  quite  unable  to  combine 
them  in  coherent  propositions.  When  birds  from  a  great 
height  cautiously  alight  on  ice,  with  a  motion  altogether 
different  from  that  of  diving  into  water,  they  show  that 
they  are  able  to  distinguish  ice  in  general  from  water  in 
general,  since  their  practice  is  by  no  means  limited  to 
any  particular  piece  of  ice  with  which  they  have  become 
familiar.  But  they  are  not  able  to  put  together  their 
notion  of  ice  with  a  notion  of  temperature,  or  of  altitude, 
or  of  latitude,  and  so  to  form  coherent  rational  propositions 
about  ice. 

This  power,  which  man  has,  he  owes  entirely  to  the 
circumstance  that  he  has  discovered  a  method  of  fixing 
signs  to  his  concepts  so  that  he  can  recall  them  and 
identify  them  in  whatever  combination  they  happen  to 
be  placed.  These  signs  of  concepts  we  know  by  the 
designation  "names."  Particular  objects,  also,  we  identify 
by  names.  That  is  to  say,  we  have  two  distinct  classes 
of  names :  the  concrete  or  proper  nouns,  and  the  ab- 
stract or  common  nouns.  The  latter  are  terms  for  con- 
cepts.    The  greater  part  of   our  verbs  also  are  signs  of 

\ 


240  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

concepts  ;  they  are  names  of  actions  or  states  that  are 
general  rather  than  particular. 

One  who  closely  observes  the  mental  development  of 
a  child,  sees  that  his  power  of  using  words  as  marks  of 
concepts  and  his  power  of  conceptual  thought  develop  to- 
gether. Each  step  in  his  command  over  either  helps  him 
in  his  struggle  with  the  other.  The  process  was  un- 
doubtedly the  same  in  the  early  development  of  spoken 
language  in  primitive  human  communities,  except  that  the 
original  process  undoubtedly  occupied  a  much  longer  time. 

From  the  standpoint  o.f  the  sociologist,  the  most  inter- 
esting question  touching  the  origin  of  speech  is  that  of 
the  means  by  which  articulate  sounds  became  associated 
with  general  ideas,  so  that  they  were  presently  con- 
sciously employed  as  names,  and  thereby  enabled  man- 
kind to  advance  in  his  intellectual  development  until  he 
had  mastered  the  processes  of  conceptual  reasoning. 

Students  of  language  believe  that  this  means  was  none 
other  than  the  habit  of  social  pleasure-making,  in  the 
forms  of  feasting,  dancing,  and  a  common  expression  of 
emotion  in  shouts  and  cries  which,  under  the  influence 
of  excitement,  naturally  assumed  a  rhythmical  form.  The 
expression  of  feeling  in  vocal  sounds,  which  is  common  to 
animals,  was  probably  first  transformed  into  a  choral  sing- 
ing, and  afterwards  into  articulate  speech.  In  all  proba- 
bility, the  choral  sounds  thus  transformed  into  a  rude 
music  were,  in  the  beginning,  imitations  of  the  cries  of 
animals  and  men  whose  actions  were  at  the  same  time 
being  imitated  in  the  gesture  and  pantomime  of  the  dance. 
Sounds  thus  associated  with  particular  objects  or  classes 
of  objects,  not  once  or  twice  or  in  any  merely  accidental 
way,  but  over  and  over  again  in  repetitions  that  became 


The  Early  History  of  Society  241 

habitual,  presently  served,  when  heard,  to  call  to  mind 
the  objects  or  classes  of  objects  themselves.  Thus,  by- 
imitation  and  repetition,  they  unconsciously  became  fixed 
signs  or  names  of  concepts  ;  and  doubtless  they  had  come 
into  general  use  before  any  individual  Was  aware  of  the 
marvellous  transformation  that  was  thus  taking  place  in 
his  own  intelligence. 

Therefore,  it  was  probably  a  purely  social  fact  —  that, 
namely,  of  habitual  and  perhaps  almost  systematic  social 
pleasure-making  —  which  enabled  man  to  convert  the  lan- 
guage of  animals  into  articulate  speech  and  develop  the 
power  of  conceptual  thought. 

Human  Nature.  —  One  other  fact  of  primitive  human 
society  we  also  know  with  certainty.  It  was  in  the  earli- 
est period  of  human  evolution  that  human  nature  as  dis- 
tinguished from  animal  nature  was  produced,  and  that  the 
social  mind  entered  upon  its  formal  development  through 
the  origin  of  tradition. 

Human  nature  is  not  that  self-seeking  individualism 
which  has  so  often  been  mistaken  for  it.  The  more  self- 
ish and  unsocial  the  individual  is,  the  nearer  does  he 
approach  to  the  prehuman  or  animal  nature.  Human 
nature  is  preeminently  social.  Its  chief  trait  is  a  con- 
sciousness of  kind  wider  and  stronger  than  that  found  in 
animal  groups ;  a  consciousness  of  kind  that  is  better 
developed  in  the  civilized  man  of  to-day  than  it  was  in  the 
civilized  man  of  antiquity ;  that  was  better  developed  in 
him  than  in  the  barbarian,  and  better  developed  in  the 
barbarian  than  in  the  savage.  Next  to  the  better  devel- 
oped consciousness  of  kind,  the  chief  trait  of  human 
nature  is  a  volume  of  desire,  strong,  expansive,  and  modi- 
fiable to  a  degree  unknown  in  any  other  species. 

R 


242  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

Both  of  these  traits  of  human  nature  were  made  possi- 
ble by  speech.  Speech  sharply  marked  off  the  species 
that  had  discovered  it.  It  enabled  that  species  to  become 
self-conscious  and  to  comprehend  its  superiority  to  all 
other  creatures.  In  like  manner,  the  differences  of  speech 
that  grew  up  between  separate  communities,  until  it  was 
impossible  for  one  to  understand  another,  became  the 
basis  of  a  very  marked  development  of  the  consciousness 
of  kind.  Speech,  moreover,  was  the  chief  factor  in  the 
development  of  curiosity,  as  it  is  to  this  day  in  the  mental 
evolution  of  the  child.  When  the  child  begins  to  learn 
and  to  apply  names,  his  curiosity  about  things,  and  his 
desire  to  investigate  them  by  every  means  in  his  power, 
becomes  most  intense.  We  cannot  doubt  that  this  was 
true  also  of  primitive  man. 

The  development  of  curiosity,  in  its  turn,  is  the  chief 
factor  in  the  development  of  desire.  Desire  has  its  origi- 
nal source  in  the  physiological  processes.  But  our  purely 
physiological  wants  are  limited  in  degree  and  are  easily 
satisfied.  It  is  only  when  the  excitement  that  accom- 
panies the  activity  of  our  psychological  apparatus  —  of 
brain  and  nerve  —  is  awakened,  that  desire  assumes  the 
form  of  cravings  which  admit  of  indefinite  multiplication. 
The  desires  that  contain  elements  of  perception  and 
thought,  especially  when  they  assume  the  form  of  intel- 
lectual curiosity,  admit  of  combination  and  recombination 
with  one  another  and  with  the  primary  cravings  of  bodily 
desire,  in  endless  variatipn  of  detail. 

It  was,  then,  the  development  of  speech  that  made 
possible  the  development  of  human  nature,  whose  chief 
characteristics  are  the  developed  consciousness  of  kind, 
intellectual  curiosity,  and  an  expansive  desire. 


The  Early  History  of  Society  243 

Inequality  and  Emulation,  —  Speech,  in  combination 
with  a  developing  desire,  emphasized  inequality  between 
man  and  man,  and  gave  birth  to  emulation  and  the  desire 
to  excel. 

Since  speech  was  the  most  peculiar,  ftnd  probably  the 
most  prized  characteristic  of  any  community  of  primitive 
men,  the  individual  man  who  excelled  in  speech,  —  partic- 
ularly in  persuasive  speech,  —  and  who  had  unusual  pow- 
ers of  conceptual  thought,  became  the  natural  leader  of 
the  band.  He  also  had  more  varied  desires  and  ambitions 
than  his  fellows,  and  knew  better  how  to  realize  them. 
At  the  same  time,  by  means  of  his  endowment  of  concept- 
ual thought,  he  could  put  his  distinction  before  his  own 
mind  as  an  object  of  thought.  He  could  distinctly  form 
the  notions  of  leadership  and  of  adulation  as  objects  worth 
achieving.  In  the  breasts  of  his  fellows,  however,  the 
deepening  consciousness  of  kind  could  but  fortify  a  belief 
that  the  distinction  which  one  could  achieve  must  be  pos- 
sible to  all.  The  wish  to  emulate,  born  of  habits  of  imita- 
tion that  extended  back  through  countless  generations, 
thus  became  at  length  in  their  minds  a  consciously  con- 
ceived desire,  as  clear  and  as  powerful  as  the  exceptional 
man's  desire  to  excel.  In  the  birth  of  these  two  desires, 
the  desire  to  excel  and  the  desire  to  emulate,  the  long 
course  of  human  progress  began. 

The  First  Traditions.  —  Traditions  arose  in  primitive 
human  society,  and  the  first  steps  in  the  development  of 
a  conventional  type  of  the  social  mind  were  taken  when, 
after  the  acquisition  of  articulate  speech,  primitive  com- 
munities began  to  discuss  those  ideas  and  experiences 
that  individuals  had  been  familiar  with  for  untold  gen- 
erations.    Ideas  of  utility,  of   toleration,  of   alliance  and 


244  ^^^^  Ele^nents  of  Sociology 

conquest  became  elements  of  tradition  when,  and  only 
when,  communicated  from  one  individual  mind  to  another 
throughout  the  social  group,  they  were  made  objects  of 
conceptual  thought,  of  discussion,  and  of  common  belief. 

I.  Primitive  Economic  Ideas.  —  By  communication  and 
discussion,  until  they  became  a  common  possession,  the 
primitive  ideas  of  utility  and  value  were  combined  in  a 
primitive  conception  of  wealth.  Desirable  things  are  not 
wealth  until  they  are  appreciated  by  the  community  as 
well  as  by  the  individuals  that  first  discover  their  desira- 
ble qualities.  Economists  imperfectly  express  this  truth 
when  they  say  that  wealth  consists  of  the  useful  things 
that  can  be  exchanged,  or  that  have  value  in  exchange. 
Actual  exchange  is  not  necessary  to  convert  the  material 
means  of  satisfaction  into  wealth ;  but  a  general  or  social 
esteem  is  necessary.  Such  an  esteem  arose  when  men 
began  consciously  to  compare  their  wants,  their  efforts, 
and  their  satisfactions ;  and  when,  by  that  common  con- 
sent which  is  a  product  as  much  of  emulation  as  of  dis- 
cussion, they  began  to  arrange  the  means  of  satisfaction 
in  a  scale  of  desirableness.  In  those  days  of  sharp  alter- 
nations of  feasting  and  starving,  mere  quantity  of  any- 
thing consumable  impressed  the  imagination  ;  and  crude 
abundance  was  put  first  in  the  social  esteem.  To  dis- 
cover and  conquer  abundance  was  to  win  distinction. 
Next  in  order  were  put  the  things  that  qualitatively  or 
quantitatively  served  as  marks  of  distinction,  such  as  tro- 
phies, ornaments,  and  implements,  and  finally  the  things 
that  appealed  to  new  desires.  The  primitive  idea  of 
wealth  was  thus  not  essentially  different  from  the  idea 
of  wealth  to-day.  It  was  the  notion  of  a  socially  esteemed 
abundance  of  things  necessary  for  life,  for  social  distinc- 


The  Early  History  of  Society  245 

tion,  for  emulation,  and  for  the  imitation  of  novelty.  It 
expanded  with  the  growth  of  inequality,  which  intensified 
the  desires  to  excel  and  to  emulate. 

The  remaining  economic  ideas  of  the  primitive  social 
mind  were  those  that  constitute  the  useful  or  productive 
arts.  Discovery  and  invention  were  then,  as  they  are  now, 
the  prime  factors  in  economic  production.  The  discoveries 
made  by  primitive  man  were  few  and  simple ;  and  his  in- 
ventions did  not  get  beyond  the  most  elementary  tools 
and  processes.  Professor  Tylor  says  that  it  is  not  quite 
true  that  man  is  distinguished  from  the  animals  by  his 
use  of  tools,  since  some  apes,  and  perhaps  other  animals, 
use  the  tools  that  are  ready  to  hand,  in  the  forms  of  clubs 
and  stones ;  but  that  man  alone  improves  these  natural 
tools,  and  therefore  may  be  called  a  tool-making  animal. 
When  all  of  the  simple  discoveries  of  primitive  man,  all 
of  his  inventions  of  tools  and  processes,  were  communi- 
cated, discussed,  and  imitated,  they  became  a  common 
possession,  and  thus  a  permanent  acquisition  of  the  social 
mind. 

2.  Primitive  Juristic  Ideas.  —  Through  communication 
and  discussion,  habits  of  toleration  that  had  long  been 
established  became  objects  of  conceptual  thought,  and 
were  converted  into  the  juridical  tradition.  As  was  ex- 
plained in  an  earlier  chapter,  the  habits  of  toleration 
themselves  had  originated  in  those  conflicts  that  resulted 
in  demonstrating  a  substantial  equilibrium  of  strength. 
Such  habits  were  converted  into  rules  of  toleration,  and 
thereby  into  juridical  facts,  when  they  were  named  and 
described,  as  a  result  of  being  conceptually  thought  about 
and  discussed. 

From  the  first,  the  ideas  of  toleration  in  the  primitive 


246  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

social  mind  must  have  assorted  themselves  into  the  two 
classes  that  are  still  fundamental  categories  of  legal 
thought;  namely,  notions  of  immunity  of  life  and  notions 
of  immunity  of  possession. 

The  conception  of  immunity  of  life  was  at  first  limited 
by  a  narrow  consciousness  of  kind.  The  primitive  man 
could  feel  affection  for  an  associate;  he  could  estimate 
the  probable  danger  of  offending  him ;  and  could  appre- 
ciate the  importance  of  his  life  to  the  band.  For  the 
stranger,  the  primitive  man  could  have  no  such  feelings; 
and  no  sacredness  could  attach  to  a  stranger's  life.  The 
man  who  slew  a  fellow-member  of  his  band  could  expect 
the  wrath  of  his  own  associates.  The  man  who  was  in- 
jured by  a  stranger  could  count  on  the  aid  of  all  his  own 
associates  in  pursuing  and  avenging. 

The  idea  of  possession,  which  originated  in  the  asser- 
tion of  ownership  that  is  exhibited  by  animals,  became,  in 
the  primitive  social  mind,  the  notion  of  property  or  of 
property  right,  which  is  a  product  of  two  factors ;  namely, 
the  assertion  of  possession  on  the  part  of  the  individual 
possessing,  and  the  toleration  of  his  claim  or  acquiescence 
in  it  on  the  part  of  the  community.  In  primitive  society, 
property  extended  to  simple  personal  belongings,  to  arti- 
cles of  adornment,  to  trophies  of  the  chase  or  of  war,  and 
to  tools  and  weapons.  Probably  gift-giving,  in  recogni- 
tion of  bravery  or  capacity,  was  an  important  factor  in 
the  evolution  of  the  conception  of  property.  Nothing 
could  more  clearly  have  been  property  than  articles  given 
by  the  community  to  its  favourite  leaders. 

3.  Primitive  Political  Ideas. — The  notions  which,  by 
means  of  discussion,  were  converted  into  the  germs  of 
political  ideas   in   the   primitive   social   mind  were  those 


The  Early  History  of  Society  247 

of  a  common  territory,  of  a  common  interest  and  defence, 
of  a  common  leadership  and  allegiance,  and  of  a  common 
culture. 

The  lowest  savage  hordes  have  notions  of  rudely- 
bounded  lands  which  they  may  rightfully  claim  and  de- 
fend. It  is  probable  that  these  ideas  originated  far  back 
in  prehistoric  times.  They  could  not  fail  to  arise  when 
the  familiar  association  of  a  group  with  the  natural  feat- 
ures of  its  dwelling-place  was  frequently  disturbed  by 
enemies,  and  the  danger  became  a  topic  of  discussion. 

The  supreme  common  interests  of  primitive  men  were 
those  of  mutual  aggression  and  mutual  defence ;  and  we 
may  be  sure  that  the  habits  of  mutual  aid  which  had  been 
acquired  in  the  animal  stage  of  evolution  were  well  scru- 
tinized by  the  primitive  social  mind;  that  they  were 
named  and  discussed ;  and  that  the  resulting  notions  of 
the  conduct  that  would  receive  public  approval  in  any 
given  case  were  combined  into  conceptions  of  loyalty 
and  solidarity. 

Leadership  must  often  have  played  an  important  part 
in  critical  situations,  and  have  riveted  the  primitive  man's 
attention  upon  differences  of  personal  power,  and  upon 
the  relations  of  inferior  to  superior.  Simple  forms  of  ad- 
miration and  ceremony  are  observed  throughout  the  animal 
kingdom.  All  animals  exhibit  an  uncritical  wonder  at 
unusual  displays  of  power  or  brilliancy,  and  express  their 
deference  to  those  who  are  admired  or  feared  by  attitudes 
of  supplication,  by  acts  of  service,  and  by  a  surrender  of 
possessions.  In  return  for  deference,  they  look  for  various 
benefits  from  the  superior.  These  habits  were  inherited 
by  the  human  race;  and  the  primitive  man  uncritically 
accepted   any  difference   between    himself    and   another. 


248  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

especially  any  difference  of  magnitude  or  power.  One 
was  inferior  and  must  admire  and  obey,  follow  and  ask 
favours ;  the  other  was  superior,  and  could  command  and 
guide,  demand  reverence  and  service,  and  bestow  benefits. 
These  notions,  converted  into  common  possessions  of  the 
social  mind,  became  ideas  of  a  common  property  in  the 
commanding  personalities  of  the  community ;  ideas  of 
benefit  and  obligation  in  the  relations  of  leader  and  fol- 
lower ;  ideas  of  common  forms  of  ceremony.  These  ideas 
bound  men  together  when  they  thought  of  themselves  as 
inferior  and  superior,  as  ideas  of  their  common  interest  in 
defence  and  aggression  bound  them  together  when  they 
thought  of  themselves  as  equal  allies.  The  crude  notions 
of  benefit  and  obligation  were  fertile  ideas  that  would  later 
develop  into  personal  allegiance  to  a  chief  or  lord.  From 
the  ceremonial  ideas  were  to  be  evolved  those  differen- 
tiated forms  of  command  and  obedience,  of  bounty  and 
tribute,  of  protection  and  service,  of  grace  and  homage, 
that  are  the  substance  of  government  of  every  sort. 

In  the  stock  of  common  ideas  on  all  the  relations  and 
interests  of  life,  in  the  common  forms  of  ceremonial,  and  in 
the  speech  which  transmitted  both  ideas  and  ceremonial  the 
community  had  the  elements  of  a  common  culture.  When 
the  social  mind  perceived  these  elements  and  reflected 
upon  them,  it  thereby  converted  them  into  a  culture  in 
fact,  a  supreme  interest  to  be  diligently  cherished.  In 
this  conception  of  a  common  culture  appeared  the  germ  of 
one  of  the  most  important  of  all  political  ideas. 

A  common  culture  depends  upon  autogeny  and  its  cen- 
tral fact  of  genetic  aggregation.  The  conception  of  a 
common  culture  had,  as  its  chief  element,  the  idea  of  a 
community  of  speech,  which,  as  a  rule,  could  be  identified 


The  Early  History  of  Society  249 

with  kinship.  Therefore,  the  conception  of  a  common 
culture  must  have  been  closely  associated  with  the  concep- 
tion of  kinship.  From  these  two  conceptions  was  subse- 
quently developed  that  plan  of  government  which  made 
kinship  its  administrative  basis^  ' 

All  of  these  political  ideas  of  the  primitive  social  mind 
—  ideas,  namely,  of  a  common  territory,  of  solidarity  and 
loyalty,  of  leadership  and  allegiance,  of  kinship  and  a  com- 
mon culture  —  have  been  factors  in  every  form  of  political 
organization  that  has  been  tried ;  but  the  idea  of  kinship 
was  the  first,  the  idea  of  allegiance  was  the  second,  and  the 
idea  of  territory  was  the  last  to  be  emphasized  for  admin- 
istrative purposes. 

Secondary  Traditions.  —  In  these  various  groups  of 
social  ideas  were  the  beginnings  of  the  economic,  the 
juristic,  and  the  political  traditions.  They  all  pertained 
to  those  fundamental  relations  which  a  conscious  organism 
holds  to  the  tangible  world  of  palpable  creatures  and  ma- 
terial things. 

But  in  the  very  process  of  reflecting  upon  its  own  ideas, 
the  mind  of  man  was  beginning  to  look  in  upon  itself  and 
to  apprehend  phenomena  of  which  the  animal  mind  had 
never  been  conscious.  It  was  beginning  to  have  ideas  of 
ideas  :  ideas  of  volition,  life,  and  cause  ;  ideas  of  the  sources 
of  those  manifestations  of  power  that  had  awakened  won- 
der and  fear.  It  was  beginning  to  perceive  an  intangible 
world.  These  notions  of  an  intangible  world,  communi- 
cated and  discussed,  became  the  elements  of  the  secondary 
traditions ;  namely,  the  animistic,  the  poetic,  and  the 
religious. 

I.  Primitive  Animistic  Ideas.  —  The  ideas  constituting 
the  animistic  tradition  man  derived  from  his  first  crude  at- 


250  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

tempts  to  analyze  himself.  Ordinarily,  body  and  thought 
seemed  inseparable.  But  when  the  primitive  man  ob- 
served the  bodies  of  the  dead,  he  discovered  that  mani- 
festations of  thought,  expressed  in  a(^tion  and  speech, 
could  no  longer  be  expected.  His  own  experiences  in 
dreaming  and  in  imaginative  waking  moods,  when  his  own 
mind  seemed  to  wander  away  from  his  body,  led  him  to 
interpret  these  facts  as  due  to  a  simple  and  natural  separa- 
tion of  mind  and  body  under  certain  circumstances.  He 
interpreted  himself  and  every  other  living  thing  as  double 
—  as  consisting  of  two  selves,  which  might  live  together  or 
might  wander  apart. 

From  this  notion  it  followed  by  primitive  reasoning  that 
whatever  manifested  Hfe  was  personal  and  was  actuated 
by  motives  like  those  of  human  beings.  The  primitive 
man  concluded  that  conscious  will  was  in  everything  that 
moved  or  changed ;  and  that  it  was  prompted,  like  man's 
will,  by  appetite,  desire,  friendliness,  and  malevolence. 
The  world  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  bewildering  aggregation 
of  conscious  powers.  Some  of  them  were  contemptible, 
and  man  could  abuse  or  use  them ;  but  others  were  terri- 
ble, swift,  subtle,  or  mysterious  in  their  action,  and  filled  the 
wondering  human  soul  with  fear,  admiration,  and  dread. 

2.  Primitive  Poetic  Ideas.  —  The  notions  that  were  de- 
veloped into  the  poetic  tradition  sprang  chiefly  from  the 
primitive  man's  interpretation  of  shadows,  reflections  in 
water,  and  echoes.  He  assigned  to  these  intangible 
things  an  independent  conscious  life  quite  like  his  own 
personality.  He  was  led  to  this  interpretation  because 
shadow,  reflection,  and  echo  seemed  to  him  to  have  the 
power  of  accompanying  him  at  certain  times,  or  to  sepa- 
rate themselves  from  him  independently  of  his  will.     It 


The  Early  History  of  Society  251 

was  beyond  the  range  of  his  intelligence  to  explain  the 
appearance  and  disappearance  of  the  shadow  as  due  to 
his  own  position  in  the  sunlight  or  in  the  shade ;  to  ex- 
plain the  echo  which  seemed  to  come  back  from  mountain 
or  forest,  as  due  to  the  nature  of  sound.  '•  He  could  think 
of  the  echo  only  as  the  voice  of  his  double  —  that  think- 
ing, spiritual  part  of  himself  which  had  the  power  of  wan- 
dering away  from  the  body  in  imagination,  in  dreams,  and 
in  death.  The  shadow  and  the  reflection,  in  like  manner, 
he  believed  were  visions  of  his  conscious  self,  fleetingly 
caught  by  his  eye.  Thus  conceiving  of  images  and 
echoes,  he  interpreted  words  and  other  sounds  in  like 
manner.  They  were  living  conscious  things,  in  some 
mysterious  way  associated  with  himself,  and  yet  having 
the  power  to  live  apart  from  his  tangible  body.  Thus  it 
was  that  the  whole  human  race,  in  its  earliest  days,  came 
to  think  of  all  the  modes  of  expression,  both  in  imagery 
and  in  sound,  as  consisting  of  living  things ;  and  thus  it 
was  that  the  entire  early  conception  of  the  world  and  of 
history  took  that  poetic  form  in  which  all  things,  including 
sounds  and  images  themselves,  are  personified. 

Primitive  Religions  Ideas.  —  The  religious  tradition  had 
its  origin  in  the  primitive  man's  notion  that  his  intangible 
or  conscious  self  survived  the  death  of  his  body,  and  con- 
tinued to  wander  about  the  world  as  a  ghost  or  spirit 
which,  at  times,  might  come  back  to  a  body  from  which 
apparently  it  had  gone  forever,  or  go  from  one  body  to 
another,  or  even  from  a  human  into  an  animal  body,  or 
into  a  plant,  or  stream,  or  mountain,  or  other  natural  object. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  natural  than  that  the 
primitive  man  should  so  interpret  familiar  occurrences. 
In  coma,  for  example,  the  body  may  lie  for  days  in  a  state 


252  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

indistinguishable  from  death,  and  then  revive.  In  epi- 
lepsy and  in  insanity,  as  they  appeared  to  the  primitive 
man,  the  proper  spirit  of  the  victim  was  evidently  not  in 
him ;  or  it  was  enthralled  by  strange  and  probably  malevo- 
lent spirits. 

So  the  belief  in  ghosts  or  surviving  spirits  of  the  dead 
that  had  come  back  to  their  bodies  or  wandered  through 
the  air,  or  entered  into  plants,  streams,  or  other  objects, 
became  a  conviction  of  the  entire  human  race ;  and,  ac- 
cording to  primitive  modes  of  thinking,  it  was  necessary 
for  man  to  propitiate  not  only  living  beings  who  were 
more  powerful  than  himself,  but  also  the  ghosts  of  the 
dead  which,  if  not  well  treated,  might  become  malevolent, 
and  work  all  manner  of  mysterious  mischief. 

Totemism.  —  Out  of  these  notions,  by  a  most  natural 
development,  grew  those  ideas  of  the  primitive  social 
mind  that  were  destined  to  play  an  exceedingly  impor- 
tant part  in  the  organization  of  tribal  society :  the  ideas, 
namely,  which  have  already  been  briefly  described  as 
totemism.  Primitive  naming  was  largely  a  matter  of  imi- 
tation. At  least,  we  may  so  infer  from  the  fact  that 
among  existing  savages  names  are  derived  almost  wholly 
from  animals,  plants,  and  other  natural  objects  with  which 
the  daily  life  of  the  band  is  most  closely  associated. 
Furthermore,  in  hunting,  fishing,  and  in  festive  amuse- 
ments, it  was  doubtless  customary  then  as  now  to  adopt 
disguises  and  imitations  of  animal  forms  by  clothing  one's 
self  in  skins  or  putting  on  head-dresses  of  feathers,  beaks, 
and  horns.  To  the  primitive  mind,  this  association  by 
adornment,  imitation,  and  naming,  with  animal  forms  or 
other  objects,  created  a  much  closer  alliance  than  w^ould 
seem  credible  to  the  modern   mind.      Since   names  and 


The  Early  History  of  Society  253 

images  were  themselves  supposed  to  be  living  spiritual 
realities  with  mysterious  powers,  any  alliance  with  them 
was  thought  to  be  equivalent  to  an  intimate  association 
with  the  objects  which  they  named  or  pictured.  If  a  boy 
were  called  an  eagle  or  a  bear,  and  espe'cially  if  he  were 
also  adorned  in  imitation  of  eagle  or  bear,  he  necessarily 
partook  thereby  of  the  nature  and  powers  of  the  eagle  or 
the  bear.  He  was,  in  a  mysterious  way,  of  the  same  kin- 
dred as  they. 

Without  here  tracing  further  all  the  steps  in  the  process 
by  which  totemism  developed,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  it 
grew  out  of  the  notion  that  men  could  be  related  to  one 
another  through  their  mysterious  alliance  with  animal 
forms.  Thus,  the  human  community  came  to  be  thought 
of  as  including  many  members  besides  the  human  individ- 
uals born  into  it.  It  was  supposed  to  include  the  ghosts 
of  all  its  dead  members;  to  include  all  its  totemic  mem- 
bers of  other  species ;  to  include  all  those  human  beings 
who,  wandering  into  it,  happened  to  be  named  or  marked 
with  the  name  or  image  of  the  totem,  since,  to  the  mind 
of  the  primitive  man,  this  would  prove  that  they  also  were 
related  to  his  own  totemic  kindred. 

Such,  then,  were  the  chiefly  interesting  developments  of 
primitive  human  society.  The  origin  of  speech,  the  evolu- 
tion of  human  nature,  and  the  beginnings  of  the  great 
traditions  of  the  social  mind :  these  were  the  achieve- 
ments of  anthropogenic  association. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Read  Darwin's  "Descent  of  Man"  ;  Brinton's  "Races  and  Peoples" ; 
and  Spencer's  "Principles  of  Sociology,"  Volume  I,  Part  I,  Chapters 
V-XIX,  inclusive,  and  Volume  II,  Part  IV. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

Tribal  Society 

Endogamous  Metronjrmic  Hordes.  —  We  have  no  means  of 
knowing  how  long  ago  bands  of  human  beings  first  de- 
veloped into  true  tribal  organizations.  Yet,  while  the 
actual  time  that  has  elapsed  since  the  forms  of  social 
organization  began  to  appear  among  mankind  will  prob- 
ably never  be  measured,  we  can  determine  with  a  close 
approach  to  accuracy  the  successive  stages  through  which 
organization  has  passed  in  its  evolution.  In  this  respect 
the  study  of  the  history  of  society  is  not  unlike  the  study 
of  geology,  in  which  the  measurement  of  time  periods  is 
all  but  impossible,  while  the  order  in  which  the  successive 
rock  formations  and  the  successive  living  species  appeared, 
j  is  known  with  practical  certainty. 

This  knowledge  is  obtained  from  two  sources.  One 
is  a  study  of  words  and  usages  which,  in  existing  social 
organization,  are  evidently  survivals  from  an  earlier  time. 
The  other  is  a  study  of  the  relations  of  existing  social 
forms  to  one  another.  It  enables  us  to  discover  which  are 
{  the  earlier  and  which  the  later  modes  of  social  cooperation. 
To  pursue  the  details  of  such  studies,  the  student  must 
acquaint  himself  with  the  researches  of  folk-lore,  philology, 
archaeology,  and  ethnology. 

Without  attempting  here  to  enumerate  the  detailed 
evidences  upon  which  they  rest,  we  will,  in  this  chapter, 

254 


Tribal  Society  255 

merely  summarize  the  more  important  conclusions  that 
have  been  drawn  by  competent  investigators  from  materials 
of  various  kinds  in  regard  to  the  order  in  which  the  chief 
steps  in  the  evolution  of  tribal  society  probably  occurred. 

The  Earliest  Hordes.  —  Long  before  *here  were  any 
true  clans  or  tribes  in  human  populations,  the  prevailing 
social  organization  was  probably  a  mere  horde  in  which- 
family  relations  were  irregular  and  unstable,  in  which  de- 
scent was  traced  through  mothers  only,  and  in  which  the 
mating  of  men  and  women,  seldom  the  result  of  any  inter- 
mingling of  the  members  of  one  group  with  those  of 
another,  was  practically  wholly  within  the  group  itself, 
which  could  therefore  be  described  as  endogamous.  It 
must  be  remembered,  however,  that  strictly  speaking  there 
was  no  such  thing  as  marriage.  Marriage  is  a  juridical 
relation.  It  is  a  form  of  sexual  mating  that  is  approved 
or  sanctioned  by  the  community.  It  is  a  relation  analo- 
gous to  property  which,  as  was  explained,  consists  not  in 
a  mere  assertion  of  ownership  and  an  actual  possession  of 
the  object  claimed,  but  rather  in  the  admission  and  pro- 
tection of  the  claim  by  the  community  itself.  Property  in 
this  sense,  and  marriage  in  this  sense,  could  hardly  have 
existed  in  the  earliest  days  of  human  society. 

With  this  explanation,  we  may  say  that  the  earliest 
human  communities  were  probably  endogamous  metro- 
nymic hordes  in  which  were  formed  unstable  family 
groups,  not  unlike  those  of  the  Veddahs  of  Ceylon,  the 
Mincopis  of  the  Andaman  Islands,  and  the  Eskimo  of  the 
North. 

One  part  only  of  the  evidence  for  this  conclusion  is  of 
such  general  sociological  interest  that  it  must  be  mentioned 
here. 


256  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

In  the  systems  of  consanguinity  —  blood  relationship  — 
found  among  the  least  advanced  hordes  now  existing,  there 
are  no  such  distinctions  as  those  of  cousin,  uncle  and  aunt, 
nephew  and  niece.  All  men  and  women  of  the  same 
generation  call  themselves  brothers  and  sisters.  All  women 
of  the  preceding  generation  are  mothers.  All  men  of  the 
preceding  generation  are  fathers.  All  boys  of  the  younger 
generation  are  sons.  All  girls  of  the  younger  generation 
are  daughters.  This,  of  course,  is  such  a  system  of  re- 
lationships as  would  come  into  existence  if  a  large  num- 
ber of  men  and  women  lived  together  as  a  single  family. 
Extensive  philological  .researches  have  demonstrated  that 
in  every  part  of  the  world,  including  western  Europe,  the 
systems  of  relationship  that  now  prevail  were  preceded  in 
prehistoric  times  by  the  one  that  has  just  been  described. 

Contributions  to  Well-being.  —  Rude  as  it  was,  the 
primitive  metronymic  horde  developed  certain  virtues  that 
were  priceless  contributions  to  the  happiness  of  later  gen- 
erations. In  small  endogamous  groups  there  grew  an 
affection  that  was  all  the  more  intense  because  of  its 
limited 'range.  There  developed  also  a  gentleness,  a  ge- 
niality, a  kindliness,  in  the  relations  of  individual  to  indi- 
vidual, which  was  in  utter  contrast  to  the  enmity  that 
doubtless  existed  between  group  and  group.  Curiously 
enough,  we  have  in  these  very  words,  kindliness,  geniality, 
and  gentleness,  a  connecting  link  with  those  early  human 
communities ;  for  every  one  of  these  words  originally 
meant  that  which  pertains  to  a  kindred  or  group  of  kin 
related  through  the  mother. 

Exogamous  Metronymic  Tribes.  —  The  next  step  in  the 
evolution  of  the  forms  of  social  organization  became  pos- 
sible when  multiplying  hordes  drew  together  in  clusters. 


Tribal  Society  257 

and  established  friendly  relations  with  one  another.  The 
clan  and  exogamy  then  appeared. 

Origin  of  Exogamy.  —  A  tendency  towards  exogamy 
doubtless  existed  in  primitive  man  as  an  inherited  instinct. 
Most  of  the  higher  animals  avoid  close'  interbreeding. 
Strictly  speaking  the  animal  instinct  is  one  against  the 
mating  of  nest-  or  house-mates  and  does  not  prevent  the 
mating  of  near  kin  if  they  happen  to  have  been  reared 
apart.  Wherever  primitive  human  hordes  maintained  such 
communication  that  men  and  women  passed  frequently 
from  one  to  another,  there  was  probably  a  tendency 
towards  the  substitution  of  exogamous  for  endogamous 
mating. 

Origin  of  the  Clan. — The  clan  grew  out  of  the  natural 
defensive  alliance  of  a  household  group  of  brothers  and 
sisters.  This  group  began  to  assume  an  artificial  form 
whenever  individuals  unrelated  to  it  in  blood  were  adopted 
into  it,  and  other  individuals  originally  members  of  it  and 
related  to  it  in  blood  were  expelled  from  it,  on  account  of 
any  wrong-doing  on  their  part  or  prejudice  against  them 
on  the  part  of  their  brethren. 

Such  a  group,  although  already  partly  artificial,  would 
not  be  a  true  clan  until  it  existed  beyond  one  lifetime.  It 
would  become  a  true  clan  as  soon  as  it  admitted  from 
among  the  descendants  of  its  original  members  either  all 
offspring  of  daughters,  but  not  of  sons,  or  all  offspring  of 
sons,  but  not  of  daughters.  In  the  early  days  that  we  are 
now  considering,  admissions  could  be  made  only  from  the 
descendants  of  daughters. 

Just  this  curious  extension  and  limitation  of  the  mem- 
bership of  the  brotherhood  was  brought  about  by  the  de- 
velopment of  totemism.     Through  those  primitive  habits 


258  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

of  thought  that  were  explained  in  the  preceding  chapter, 
the  members  of  a  brotherhood  recognized  as  kindred  with 
themselves  any  person  bearing  their  own  totemic  name 
and  mark ;  and  there  was  a  process  whereby  the  range  of 
naming  and  marking  necessarily  resulted  in  those  admis- 
sions and  exclusions  which  would  convert  the  brotherhood 
into  an  organization  consisting  of  all  descendants  in  one 
line,  and  rigorously  excluding  all  descendants  in  the  other 
line. 

This  was  the  practice,  which  survives  to  the  present 
time  in  savage  groups  in  many  parts  of  the  world,  of  giving 
to  a  child  at  birth  a  charm  name  or,  as  it  is  called  in  many 
tribes,  a  "medicine,"  which  should  afford  him  protection 
and  guidance  through  life.  Partly  because  some  names 
were  more  frequently  given  than  others,  partly  because 
of  the  intellectual  poverty  of  primitive  man,  and  partly 
because  some  names  were  supposed  to  be  more  lucky  than 
others,  it  happened  that  certain  totemic  names  became 
common  in  particular  households,  and  were  handed  on  from 
one  generation  to  another ;  so  that,  in  course  of  time,  indi- 
viduals had,  as  now,  their  individual  names  and  the  name 
common  to  their  household  or  group. 

As  soon  as  totemic  group  names  were  continued  from 
generation  to  generation,  they  were  inherited  by  those 
tracing  descent  through  mothers,  and  not  by  those  tracing 
descent  through  fathers.  The  brotherhood  then  became  a 
semi-natural,  semi-artificial  band,  usually  including  all  of 
the  same  totemic  name  in  the  mother  line  of  descent, 
usually  excluding  all  in  the  father  line  of  descent ;  exclud- 
ing also  individuals  who  by  birth  belonged  to  it  if  their  con- 
duct was  intolerable;  including  also,  as  adopted  members, 
those,  wherever  born,  who  happened  to  bear  the  same  to- 


Tribal  Society  259 

temi  name,    or   who,    being   deliberately   adopted,    were 
delitrately  marked  with  it. 

C'igiti  of  the  Tribe.  —  Clusters  of   hordes  in  which  a 
totinic  clan  organization  had  appeared  were  consolidated 
int  tribes  under  the  pressure  of  attack  by  common  ene- 
mis  or  sometimes,  perhaps,  during  migrations,  or  possibly 
though  some  other  necessity  not  now  obvious.     Among 
tte  Andaman  Islanders,  it  is  a  common  occurrence  for 
h3rdes  to  come  together  for  temporary  cooperation  in  war- 
ire,  and  then,  when  the  necessity  has  passed,  to  break  up 
»nce  more  into  small  bands.     Only  as  the  pressure  con- 
:inues  indefinitely  through  successive  generations  can  per- 
manent consolidation  under  such  circumstances  be  looked 
for ;  and   probably   it   was   through    such   long-continued 
pressure  that  tribes  were  originally  formed. 

When  consolidation  had  been  effected,  the  permanent 
subdivision  of  the  resulting  tribe  was  into  clans,  since  the 
same  clan  organizations  were  found  in  all,  or  nearly  all,  of 
the  component  hordes  that  entered  into  the  tribe.  The  dis- 
tinction of  horde  from  horde  tended  to  disappear,  while 
the  clan  organization  became  increasingly  definite. 

Origin  of  the  Phratry.  —  When  tribes  and  their  constit- 
uent clans  grew  to  large  dimensions,  it  frequently  happened 
that  the  clan  organization,  becoming  too  large  for  a  suc- 
cessful performance  of  all  its  juristic  and  fraternal  func- 
tions, divided  into  sub-clans.  Then,  in  the  course  of  time, 
the  sub-clans  became  clans,  and  maintained  the  original 
clan  organization  under  a  new  form  as  a  brotherhood  of 
clans,  or  a  phratry.  In  this  case,  two  or  three  of  the 
functions  of  the  original  clan  remained  to  the  phratry. 
Among  these  were  the  conduct  of  periodical  festivities,  in 
which  the  members  of  the  different  clans  belonging  to  the 


26o  The  Elements  of  Sociology  \ 

phratry  came  together  for  a  renewal  of  their  originagood 
fellowship.  The  phratry  also  conducted  funerals  atl  all 
the  more  important  religious  ceremonies.  Jurisdictia  of 
capital  crimes  remained  with  the  phratry,  and  to  it  coul  be 
taken  other  serious  cases,  on  appeal,  from  the  clan. 

Origm  of  Federations.  —  When    a  tribe,   becoming  in- 
wieldy,  subdivided  and  threw  off  one  or  more  new  trihs, 
the  division  was  not  made  by  retaining  certain  clans  in  ho. 
old  tribe,  and  permitting  other  clans  to  go  into  the  nw 
tribes.     It   was   made   by  taking  a  portion  of   each  clai 
into  each  new  tribe.     Thus  it  happened  that,  after  a  tims 
the  same  clans  were  distributed  throughout  many  tribes 
which  were  thereby  bound  together  in  fraternal  relations 
These,  with  their  common  language,  were  the  basis  of  the 
subsequent  confederation  in  which  many  tribes  were  united 
in  military  leagues,  and  presently  consolidated  into  a  tribal; 
nation  or  folk. 

Contributions  to  Well-being.  —  Metronymic  tribal  organi- 
zation, through  its  central  social  form,  the  clan,  substituted 
an  exogamous  metronymic  system  for  the  earlier  endogamy. 

The  chief  contribution  made  to  human  well-being  by 
this  change  was  the  expansion  of  the  idea  of  kinship. 
The  totemic  clan  relation  was  the  first  means  of  extend- 
ing the  sympathy  and  affection  of  intimate  blood  relatives 
to  men  and  women  not  strictly  of  the  kindred  group,  even 
now  and  then  to  actual  strangers  who,  nevertheless,  could 
be  thought  of  as  kin.  Narrow  and  exclusive  the  social 
organization  still  remained ;  but  it  was  less  narrow  than 
in  the  beginning.  The  first  step  had  been  taken  in  that 
broadening  of  the  consciousness  of  kind  which  was  ulti- 
mately to  become  inclusive  of  humanity. 

The  Patronymic  Tribe.  —  The  change  from  a  metronymic 


Tribal  Society  261 

to  a  patronymic  organization  seems  to  have  occurred  at  any 
stage  in  the  evolution  of  tribal  society.  There  have  been 
instances  of  its  occurrence  in  small  hordes,  in  organized 
tribes,  and  again  after  the  organization  of  a  metronymic 
folk  by  confederation.  ' 

Wife  Capture.  —  The  practice  of  obtaining  wives  by 
capture  has  usually  been  the  first  step  in  the  transition. 
In  metronymic  society,  it  is  usual  for  husbands  to  follow 
the  residence  of  the  wives'  kindred ;  to  attach  themselves 
to  the  brethren  and  uncles  of  the  wives.  The  arrange- 
ment is  well  adapted  to  the  perpetuation  of  the  metro- 
nymic system  of  relationships.  When,  however,  wives  are 
obtained  by  capture,  they  are  taken  to  the  clan  and  domi- 
cile of  the  captors  ;  and,  being  there  deprived  of  the  pro- 
tection of  their  brethren,  they  fall  under  the  complete 
power  of  their  husbands.  Professor  Tylor  has  described 
communities  in  which  the  transition  from  the  metronymic 
to  the  patronymic  system  is  now  taking  place  under  the 
influence  of  wife  capture.  In  some  of  the  Malayan  tribes 
of  the  Babar  Archipelago,  "  the  men  usually  follow  the 
women  and  live  in  their  houses  ;  and  the  children  belong 
to  the  wife's  family.  A  man  may  marry  as  many  as  seven 
wives,  who  all  remain  in  the  houses  of  their  kindred. 
But  sometimes  wives  are  obtained  by  robbery,  and  are 
carried  off  to  their  husbands'  clans.  The  children  then 
follow  the  father  and  take  the  father's  name.  In  the  Kisar 
and  Wetar  Islands  also,  the  maternal  system  prevails ;  but 
it  is  passing  into  the  paternal  system  by  capture,  which 
brings  wife  and  children  under  the  husband's  control." 

A  similar  state  of  things  which  formerly  existed  in 
Arabia  is  fully  described  by  Robertson  Smith  in  his  work 
on  "  Kinship  and  Marriage  in  Early  Arabia." 


262  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

Separation  of  husband  and  wife  from  the  kindred  of 
the  wife,  if  brought  about  in  any  other  way  than  by  wife 
capture,  may  have  the  same  consequences.  Major  Powell, 
writing  of  actual  instances  of  change  from  metronymic  to 
patronymic  kinship  among  American  Indians,  says :  *'  It 
would  seem,  from  such  opportunities  as  I  have  had  to 
collect  facts  in  the  field,  that  hunting  and  other  parties 
are  frequently  organized  in  such  a  manner  that  the  male 
members  of  a  clan  group  proceed  together  in  company 
with  their  wives  and  children.  Under  such  circum- 
stances, the  control  of  the  family  necessarily  falls  into  the 
hands  of  the  husbands  and  fathers.  This  happens  among 
Pueblo  Indians,  a  matriarchal  people  with  female  descent, 
whose  clans,  in  consequence  of  the  scarcity -of  water  for 
irrigation  in  their  desert  regions,  are  obliged  to  separate 
widely  for  the  cultivation  of  lands  at  a  distance  from  the 
central  pueblo.  The  result  is  that  the  control  of  families 
and  the  training  of  children  are  temporarily  taken  out  of 
the  hands  of  their  own  kin  on  the  mother's  side  ;  and 
with  the  acquisition  of  cattle  in  these  new  homes  comes 
a  tendency  to  settle  there  permanently." 

Pastoral  Industry.  —  That  a  change  of  kinship  may  be 
effected,  however,  it  is  necessary  that  the  husband  shall 
not  only  get  possession  of  his  wife  and  her  children,  but 
also  keep  possession  of  them.  If  he  abandons  them  or 
sends  them  back  to  the  mother  clan,  no  patronymic  kin- 
ship can  be  established. 

A  motive  for  retaining  possession  of  wife  and  children 
came  into  existence  when  the  horde  desired  to  strengthen 
its  fighting  force  by  rearing  boys,  and  still  further  when 
the  labour  of  women  in  field  cultivation  had  become  so  far 
systematized  that  captured  women  as  well  as  boys  were 


Tribal  Society  263 

useful  to  the  tribe.  The  motive  to  retain  possession  of 
offspring  attained  its  maximum  strength,  however,  only 
with  the  appearance  of  forms  of  industry  that  engaged 
the  interest  and  efforts  of  men,  and  gave  value  to  the 
labour  of  sons.  In  most  parts  of  the  wofld  this  happened 
as  a  consequence  of  the  domestication  of  animals.  In  the 
pastoral  life  was  born  the  desire  to  multiply  herds  and 
herdsmen,  and  to  transmit  property  to  sons. 

Wife  Purchase.  —  As  the  value  of  women  and  children 
increased,  and  as  industry  in  some  measure  diverted  at- 
tention from  war,  marriage  by  purchase  gradually  suc- 
ceeded marriage  by  capture.  Purchase  gave  the  husband 
even  greater  authority  over  the  wife  than  he  secured 
by  capture,  since  his  right  to  a  purchased  wife  could 
not  be  denied  by  her  kinsmen.  They  wholly  surren- 
dered her;  and  she  could  cherish  no  hope  of  restoration 
to  them. 

The  husband's  authority  was  further  increased  by  re- 
ligion. It  often  happened  that  the  totemic  beliefs  of 
metronymic  tribal  communities  presented  a  serious  ob- 
stacle to  the  plan  of  descent  through  fathers.  Children 
belonged  by  birth  to  the  totem  of  the  mother.  The 
totems  of  mother  and  father  might  be  hostile ;  and  to 
count  children  as  socially  of  the  clan  of  the  father,  while 
they  were  religiously  of  the  clan  of  the  mother,  was  to 
create  a  confusion  intolerable  to  the  barbarian  mind.  By 
the  expedient  of  adopting  the  captured  or  purchased  wife 
into  the  clan  and  totem  of  the  husband,  the  difficulty  was 
overcome.  Children  were  then,  in  every  sense,  of  the 
kindred  of  the  father. 

Ancestor  Worship.  —  Paternal  authority  had  important 
reactions  upon  religion.       Clansmen  had  always  believed 


264  "^he  Elements  of  Sociology 

that  they  were  descended  from  their  totemic  gods. 
When,  therefore,  descent  began  to  be  reckoned  through 
males,  changes  in  the  religious  system  were  inevitable. 
The  male  head  of  a  family  group  was  now  the  type  of 
authority  and  power.  So  regarded  in  life,  he  was  so 
regarded  also  in  death.  While  the  household  might 
continue  to  regard  natural  objects  and  forces  and 
miscellaneous  spirits  with  superstitious  feelings,  they 
entertained  for  the  departed  stml.  of  the  founder  of  the 
house  the  stronger  feeling  of  veneration.  They  thought 
of  their  ancestral  spirit  as  their  protector  in  the  land  of 
shades.  To  the  ancestral  spirit,  therefore,  they  paid 
their  principal  devotions.  Thus,  without  entirely  dis- 
placing other  religious  observances,  ancestor  worship 
necessarily  became  a  dominant  cult. 

Ancestor  worship  is  still  the  household  religion  of 
China  and  Japan.  Many  traces  of  it  remain  in  the  desert 
tribes  of  Arabia.  All  of  the  historical  Semitic  peoples 
were  ancestor  worshippers  in  their  days  of  tribal  organiza- 
tion. The  Aryans  were  ancestor  worshippers  when  they 
first  appeared  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean ;  and 
among  the  Romans  this  religion  of  the  household  hearth 
disappeared  only  with  the  triumph  of  Christianity. 

In  its  turn,  ancestor  worship  reacted  upon  domestic  life 
and  upon  the  structure  of  clan  and  tribe.  It  established 
the  supreme  authority  of  the  father  in  the  household,  and 
even  resulted  in  that  extreme  development  of  authority 
known  at  Rome  as  the  patria  potestas.  To  the  clan, 
ancestor  worship  gave  a  more  distinctly  religious  char- 
acter. The  gentiles  preserved  the  tradition  of  the  wor- 
ship of  their  eponymous  ancestor,  they  maintained  his 
tomb,  and  united  there  in  periodical  sacrifices,  after  the 


Tribal  Society  265 

manner  so  frequently  described  by  Greek  and  Roman 
writers.  Under  the  influence  of  male  descent  and  ances- 
tor worship,  clan  headships  and  tribal  chieftainships 
tended  to  become  hereditary  in  certain  families.  In 
metronymic  society,  the  office  that  could*  not  descend  to 
a  son  often  descended  to  a  nephew,  whom  the  electors 
preferred  to  any  other  candidate  on  account  of  his  rela- 
tionship to  one  who  was  successful  as  a  counsellor  or 
leader.  In  the  ancestor  worshipping  patronymic  group, 
there  always  was  a  strong  belief  that  the  son  of  a  great 
man  was  his  most  suitable  successor  in  office,  because  it 
was  thought  that  the  spirit  of  the  father  watched  over  the 
son's  doings,  and  aided  him  with  supernatural  guidance. 

Advantages  of  Patronymic  KinsJiip.  —  In  numerous 
ways,  the  change  from  metronymic  to  patronymic  kinship 
was  of  great  advantage  to  society. 

It  greatly  increased  the  homogeneity  and  definiteness 
of  the  family  group  on  the  disciplinary  and  moral  side. 
At  first  thought,  one  might  suppose  that  the  relations  of 
children  to  parents  would  be  practically  the  same  whether 
descent  were  traced  through  the  mother  or  through  the 
father.  Such,  however,  has  never  been  practically  the 
case.  Many  intelligent  readers,  and  not  a  few  writers 
on  the  early  history  of  institutions,  have  fallen  into  the 
error  of  supposing  that  metronymic  society  was  also  matri- 
archal ;  in  other  words,  that  it  was  governed  by  women 
instead  of  men.  There  is  not  a  shred  of  evidence  that 
any  such  state  of  affairs  ever  existed.  So  far  as  matters 
of  government  were  concerned,  the  difference  between 
metronymic  and  patronymic  society  was  solely  one  of 
the  relative  authority  of  different  men.  In  the  metro- 
nymic clan,  power  and  authority  resided,  not  in  husbands 


\ 


266  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

and  fathers,  but  in  brothers  and  uncles.  It  was  just  as 
much  a  masculine  authority  as  has  ever  existed  in  patro- 
nymic communities. 

The  effect  upon  children,  however,  was  by  no  means 
the  same.  A  child  was  more  likely  than  not  to  have 
numerous  uncles  on  his  mother's  side ;  and  in  the  metro- 
nymic clan,  each  one  asserted  authority  over  him.  He 
was  thus  subject  to  an  irregular  rule  and  a  divided  respon- 
sibility. But  when  clans  began  to  trace  relationships  in 
the  male  line,  the  child  came  under  the  sole  and  single 
authority  of  one  man,  his  father.  All  other  authority  was 
subordinate.  The  same  was  true  of  other  members  of  the 
household.  The  household  was  no  longer  subject  to  the 
uncertain  rule  of  a  group  or  council,  but  to  the  single 
authority  of  one  responsible  head. 

Patronymic  relationships,  in  like  manner,  gave  greater 
cohesion  and  homogeneity  to  the  village  community. 

In  metronymic  society,  the  camp  or  village  was  a  loose 
organization,  because  a  majority  of  those  who  belonged  to 
the  same  clan  were  women  and  children.  The  men  might 
belong  to  many  different  clans.  The  unmarried  brothers 
and  male  cousins  of  the  women  were  members  of  the 
women's  clan,  while  the  various  husbands  were  from  other 
clans.  This  would  have  been  an  unimportant  matter  if 
the  women  had  been  rulers.  The  fighting  strength  and 
all  the  real  authority,  however,  lay  with  the  men,  and 
therefore  the  metronymic  camp  or  village  had  no  military 
or  juristic  unity.  If  a  quarrel  broke  out  between  two 
clans,  the  men  of  the  same  camp  or  village  were  arrayed 
against  each  other  —  an  occurrence  that  has  frequently 
been  observed  in  Australian  tribes. 

With  the  transition  to  patronymic  kinship,  the  village 


Tribal  Society  267 

became  homogeneous  in  this  matter  of  authority  and  fight- 
ing strength.  The  men  and  boys  now  constituted  a  major- 
ity of  the  clansmen  who  lived  together  in  any  place.  The 
wives  were  of  different  clans.  Consequently,  the  fighting 
strength,  the  moral  authority,  and  the  tlan  relationships 
were  now,  for  the  first  time,  united  in  the  same  group  of 
individuals. 

The  transition  to  patronymic  relationship  made  the  reli- 
gious community  also  homogeneous.  As  was  explained, 
the  religious  community  includes,  besides  its  living  human 
members,  all  the  friendly  spirits  and  ghosts,  and  all  the 
natural  objects  that  are  supposed  to  be  of  the  kindred. 
In  metronymic  totemic  society,  the  religious  community 
thus  includes  human  beings,  plants,  animals,  streams,  rocks, 
mountains,  ghosts,  and  whatever  else  is  worshipped.  In 
the  patronymic  community,  the  principal  spirits  and  gods 
are  the  ghosts  of  departed  human  members  of  the  group. 
The  religious  community  has  thus  come  to  consist  chiefly 
of  living  human  beings  and  human  spirits,  and  to  be  in 
a  high  degree  homogeneous.  The  chief  result  of  this 
greater  homogeneity  is  a  great  strengthening  of  social 
bonds,  especially  of  those  that  unite  one  generation  to 
another  and  increase  the  authority  of  tradition. 

Tribal  Feudalism.  —  Patronymic  tribes  in  which  chief- 
tainship has  become  hereditary  have  usually,  sooner  or 
later,  undergone  changes  of  organization  that  have  greatly 
modified  the  original  tribal  character,  and  have  established 
a  rude  kind  of  feudalism. 

Observations  of  tribal  society  in  every  part  of  the  world 
have  established  the  conclusion  that  it  is  the  habit  of 
tribesmen  to  bestow  large  gifts  upon  their  chieftains. 
Especially  is  this  true  when  the  tribes  are  much  engaged 


268  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

in  war  or  in  plundering  expeditions.  The  successful 
chieftain  receives  from  his  followers  a  large  share  of  the 
booty  of  conquest.  The  riches  thus  obtained  he,  in  turn, 
is  able  to  bestow  upon  his  personal  favourites.  By  this 
means,  he  binds  to  himself  those  followers  who  most 
faithfully  minister  to  his  ambitions.  These  are  the  primi- 
tive forms  of  comme7idatio  and  beneficiiim. 

When  patronymic  tribes  entered  upon  pastoral  pursuits 
and  became  wealthy  in  cattle,  these  relations  acquired 
a  great  importance.  The  chief  not  only  inherited  his 
father's  herds,  but  on  every  ceremonial  occasion  he  re- 
ceived presents  of  cattle  from  the  tribe.  He  levied  fines 
and  confiscations  which  were  paid  in  kine.  At  every 
opportunity  he  organized  excursions  to  steal  cattle  from 
neighbouring  tribes.  Dispensing  favours  and  enriching 
favourites,  he  was  soon  able  to  control  formidable  bands 
of  retainers. 

Through  the  favouritism  of  the  chief,  these  retainers 
themselves  became  powerful  men,  and  not  infrequently 
strong  enough  to  set  up  their  own  authority  against  that 
of  the  tribal  organization.  The  chief  had  received  from 
his  tribesmen  not  only  cattle  but  the  right  to  pasture 
them  on  the  outlying  borders  of  the  tribal  domain.  This 
right  he  extended  to  his  followers  who  thus  had  the  oppor- 
tunity to  become  wealthy,  powerful,  and  independent  if 
they,  in  their  turn,  could  obtain  bands  of  adventurous 
followers.  They  usually  experienced  no  difficulty  in  find- 
ing such,  since,  in  a  disturbed  state  of  society  continually 
engaged  in  war  and  plunder,  there  were  many  ruined  men, 
the  survivors  of  tribes  that  had  been  broken  up,  and  crimi- 
nals who,  for  some  offence  against  clan  law,  had  been 
driven   forth   from  the  communities  in  which  they  were 


Tribal  Society  269 

born.  Such  broken  men  were  glad  to  attach  themselves  to 
any  chieftain  or  chieftain's  favourite  who  would  employ 
them.  The  final  step  in  the  development  of  the  indepen- 
dent power  of  the  chief  or  of  his  ambitious  retainer  was  to 
use  his  lawless  bands  in  committing  depre4ations  on  weaker 
tribes  and  in  stealing  their  cattle.  Deprived  of  posses- 
sions, conquered  tribes  could  subsist  then  only  by  bor- 
rowing stock  back  from  the  arrogant  cow-noblemen, — 
as  they  are  called  in  the  old  Brehon  law  of  Ireland,  —  who 
thus  became  receivers  of  regular  tributes  and  of  rents. 

All  historical  peoples  probably  passed  through  the  stage 
of  pastoral  feudalism.  The  best  picture  of  it  that  re- 
mains to  us  is  that  disclosed  in  the  pages  of  the  Brehon 
law. 

Benefits  of  Tribal  Feudalism.  —  Rude  and  brutal  as  it 
was,  tribal  feudalism  was  a  distinct  advance  in  social 
evolution. 

It  gave  play  to  natural  selection  in  the  development  of 
leadership.  Any  man  of  sufficient  force  could  break  over 
the  barriers  reared  by  custom  and  tradition  in  the  tribal 
organization,  and  make  himself  an  independent  leader  of 
men.  Under  such  conditions,  the  men  endowed  by  nature 
with  the  qualities  of  leadership  were  sure  to  come  to  the 
front. 

It  introduced  in  human  society  what  Mr.  Mallock  calls 
the  struggle  for  domination  as  distinguished  from  the 
struggle  for  existence.  In  the  struggle  for  existence  men 
and  animals  are  engaged  in  the  effort  to  obtain  subsist- 
ence, to  overcome  enemies,  to  adapt  themselves  to  climate 
and  other  natural  conditions  of  existence.  In  the  struggle 
for  domination,  men  of  superior  powers  are  engaged  in  the 
effort  to  lead  and  organize  their  less  competent  fellows 


270  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

in  those  activities  that  grow  out  of  and  constitute  the 
struggle  for  existence.  In  the  later  stages  of  human  evo- 
lution, successful  leadership  has  been  the  most  important 
single  factor  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  It  is,  therefore, 
impossible  to  overestimate  the  importance  of  a  stage  in 
the  development  of  human  society  which  introduced  and 
once  for  all  established  the  struggle  for  domination. 

In  tribal  feudalism,  finally,  appeared  the  beginnings  of 
|ocial  organization  on  the  basis  of  mental  and  moral 
•esemblance,  irrespective  of  kinship.  Although  clan  and 
[tribe  continued  to  be  organized  on  the  gentile  principle, 
the  retainers  of  the  chieftains,  or  the  followers  of  retainers, 
might  themselves  be  men  of  any  tribe.  No  question  of 
relationship  was  asked ;  it  was  only  necessary  that  they 
should  be  loyal  adherents,  faithful  in  their  allegiance  to 
their  chosen  leader  and  protector.  The  development  of 
tribal  feudalism  was  the  first  step  towards  that  momentous 
change  which  was  finally  to  break  down  tribal  organization 
and  substitute  for  it  the  civil  organization  of  society  on 
the  basis  of  industrial  and  political  association,  irrespective 
of  the  limitations  of  blood  relationship. 

The  Ethnic  Nation.  —  Confederations  of  patronymic  tribes 
of  the  same  racial  stock  were  formed,  as  confederations  of 
metronymic  tribes  had  been  formed,  under  the  pressure  of 
a  common  danger  or  the  inspiration  of  a  common  ambi- 
tion. They  have  always  been  more  coherent,  more  formi- 
dable, and  more  stable  than  the  strongest  of  metronymic 
confederations.  Only  patronymic  confederations  have  de- 
veloped into  great  states  or  nations.  The  Egyptians,  the 
Chaldeans,  the  Hebrews,  the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  the 
Saxons,  the  Franks,  the  Germans,  and  the  Slavs  were 
originally  tribally  organized   peoples   which,   by   growth. 


Tribal  Society  271 

confederation,  and  consolidation,  developed  into  national 
states. 

When  patronymic  tribes  confederate  and  form  the 
ethnic  nation,  the  agnatic  principle  and  ancestor  wor- 
ship, combined  with  political  and  milftary  conditions, 
confer  great  authority  upon  the  chief  of  the  confedera- 
tion. He  becomes  a  military  leader,  a  religious  leader  or 
priest,  and  a  supreme  judge,  all  in  one.  The  chief,  in  a 
word,  becomes  a  king. 

With  the  achievement  of  confederation  and  the  estab- 
lishment of  kingship,  ethnogenic  evolution  is  completed. 
A  gentile  folk  or  ethnos  has  come  into  existence.  Its 
further  development,  if  evolution  is  not  arrested  at  this 
point,  carries  it  in  to  the  new  conditions  of   civilization. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Read  Morgan^s  "Ancient  Society,"  Part  II ;  Tacitus's  "  Germania  "  ; 
and  Maine's  "  Early  History  of  Institutions,"  Lectures  I-Vl  inclusive. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Civilization 

Migration  and  Settlement.  —  The  ethnic  society  that  has 
become  partly  feudalized  and  has  reached  the  stage  of 
confederation  and  kingship  is  facing  conditions  that  will 
further  transform  its  organization.  It  is  increasing  in 
wealth  and  in  population;  and  it  must  resort  to  system- 
atic agriculture.  But  the  rapid  evolution  of  energy  that 
is  taking  place  is  followed  by  expenditures  in  lawlessness 
and  restlessness.  The  semi-feudal  chiefs  and  their  retain- 
ers are  by  no  means  willing  to  settle  down  to  agricultural 
life.  To  conquer  and  plunder  and  to  compel  a  conquered 
population  to  do  agricultural  labour,  is  a  more  attractive 
programme. 

Accordingly,  we  find  that  patronymic  tribal  confeder- 
acies have  seldom  established  themselves  in  agricultural 
industry  on  the  territory  where  they  originated.  They 
have  entered  upon  a  career  of  migration  and  conquest. 
Such  was  the  history  of  the  nomad  tribes  that  overran 
Egypt;  of  the  Assyrian  tribes  that  overran  the  Akka- 
dians; of  the  Hebrews,  the  Greeks,  the  Latins,  and  the 
Germans. 

When  the  enterprise  has  been  successful,  and  an  alien 
people  has  been  subjugated,  the  conquered  territory  has 
become  the  permanent  home  of  the  conquerors. 

272 


Civilization  273 

The  first  effect  of  conquest  has  been  a  varied  demotic 
composition.  Aggregations  of  racially  related  groups 
have  been  brought  into  close  contact  with  populations  of 
a  different  race  or  sub-race  under  conditions  that  have 
made  social  and  demotic  amalgamation  inevitable. 

The  evidences  are  inexhaustible  that  the  great  historical  \ 
peoples  were  created  by  the  superposition  of  races  or  sub- 
races.  I 

From  the  earliest  times  the  valleys  of  the  Euphrates 
and  the  Tigris,  Palestine  and  Asia  Minor,  were  meeting 
and  mingling  places  of  races.  Among  the  peoples  that 
occupied  Palestine  before  the  Hebrew  conquest  were 
Amorites  of  the  Celto-Lybian  or  blonde  European  race, 
Phoenicians  or  Canaanites  of  the  Hamitic  race,  and  many 
tribes  of  the  Semitic  race.  Farther  to  the  northwest,  in 
Asia  Minor,  a  like  primitive  population  of  commingled 
Celto-Lybian,  Hamitic,  and  Semitic  races  was  overrun  at 
an  early  period  by  conquering  warrior  tribes  of  the  Medi- 
terranean stock,  Lycians,  Lydians,  Phrygians,  and  Carians, 
who  came  across  the  Hellespont  from  Thrace.  In  Greece, 
the  Hellenic  tribes  superposed  themselves  upon  the  prim- 
itive population  of  Pelasgians;  in  Italy  the  Latin  and 
Sabine  tribes  overran  the  Etruscans  and  the  Umbrians. 
In  England,  within  the  historic  period,  Saxons  and  Danes  «> 
have  been  superposed  upon  Celts,  and  Normans  upon 
Saxons  and  Danes;  and  back  of  these  conquests  and 
comminglings  there  were  throughout  Europe,  in  prehis- 
toric times,  successive  overflowings  of  population  by  pop- 
ulation, of  which  evidences  survive  in  stone  and  bronze 
implements,  burial  barrows,  and  skulls. 

Sovereignty  and  Institutions.  —  When  a  tribally  organ- 
ized people  has  established  itself   upon  a  conquered  ter- 


I 


274  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

ritory,  and  has  been  obliged  to  define  its  relations  to  a 
subject  race,  an  active  development  of  the  political  phases 
of  the  social  mind  has  always  followed. 

Sovereignty  has  then  assumed  a  more  definite  form  and 
a  more  positive  character.  Embodied  in  the  council  of  a 
metronymic  confederacy,  sovereignty  could  hardly  appear 
to  free  tribesmen  as  a  power  to  compel  obedience.  Em- 
bodied in  the  hereditary  king  of  a  patronymic  people,  it 
could  be  thought  of  as  a  right  to  command.  Even  then, 
however,  it  could  be  regarded  only  as  a  semi-divine  author- 
ity over  the  people,  and  not  as  an  authority  inherent  in  the 
people.  But  when,  by  united  action,  an  entire  people  has 
imposed  its  rule  upon  a  subjugated  race,  sovereignty  has 
been  revealed  in  its  true  character  as  the  supreme  expres- 
sion of  the  social  will  —  as  a  law-making  and  an  obedi- 
ence-compelling power  to  which  every  member  of  the  state 
c/)ntributes  his  individual  authority  and  his  might. 

From  this  time  on,  therefore,  sovereignty  reacts  vigor- 
ously upon  the  whole  organization  of  society.  The  social 
mind,  which  has  long  reflected  upon  social  relations, 
has  hitherto  expressed  its  approval  and  its  disapproval 
through  the  ancient  customs  of  clan  and  tribe.  Now  it 
begins  to  convert  its  judgments  into  formal  decrees. 
Compelled  by  the  contact  of  a  ruling  and  a  subject  pop- 
ulation to  face  new  problems  of  organization,  it  begins 
systematically  to  review  the  social  system  as  it  has 
hitherto  reviewed  the  conduct  of  individuals,  and  to  say 
explicitly  what  relations  will  be  tolerated.  Thus  the  rela- 
tions that  are  expressly  authorized  and  sanctioned  are  con- 
verted into  positive  institutions. 

Sovereignty  necessarily  acts  through  the  social  constitu- 
tion, especially  through  the  organs  of  government.     For 


Civilization  275 

this  reason  the  social  constitution  presently  becomes  supe- 
rior in  power  and  authority  to  the  social  composition/ 

Accordingly,  the  first  institutions  are  those  of  govern- 
ment  and  religion  —  the  kingship  and  the  priesthood.     At 
this  time,  however,  religious,  military,  and  political  func- 
tions are  all  united  in  the  king.    Government  is  theocratic,    . 
but  there  is  no  church. 

As  yet,  however,  the  social  constitution  is  not  separated 
from  the  social  or  from  the  demotic  composition.  There- 
fore in  converting  the  organs  of  government  into  positive 
institutions,  the  sovereign  will  of  the  people  necessarily 
converts  confederacy,  tribe,  clan,  and  family  also  into  "^ 
institutions.  For  a  time,  sovereignty  accepts  and  sanc- 
tions the  forms  of  these  organizations  that  have  been 
established  by  custom.  It  accepts  and  sanctions  also  the 
established  distinctions  in  rank.  When  a  confederated 
folk  that  has  become  feudal  and  monarchical  takes  pos- 
session of  a  conquered  territory,  it  is  already  differentiated 
into  royal,  noble,  free,  and  servile  families.  These  dis-- 
tinctions  of  the  social  composition  are  now  made  the  basis 
of  the  hierarchy  of  power,  authority,  and  service  in  the 
social  constitution.  This  identity  of  the  social  composition 
with  the  social  constitution  long  persists. 

The  conquerors,  nevertheless,  notwithstanding  great 
differences  of  rank  among  themselves,  in  social  functions  ^^ 
remain  sharply  separated  from  the  conquered.  There  is 
an  identity  of  the  social  constitution  with  the  composi- 
tion of  the  population  that  is  not  soon  destroyed.  The 
conquerors  become  a  religious,  military,  and  political  class,  ^^ 
and  the  conquered  an  industrial  class.  As  the  ruling 
class  possesses  the  soil  and  forces  the  subject  popula- 
^  tion  to  cultivate  it,  there  is  no  separation  of  the  industrial 


u/ 


276  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

from  the  political  organization  of  the  community.  The 
institutional  organization  of  government,  therefore,  makes 
it  necessary  to  convert  industrial  relations  into  a  third 
group  of  positive  institutions ;  namely,  those  of  property, 
and  of  slavery,  or  of  serfdom. 

Thus  the  conquerors  reserve  to  themselves  all  directive 
functions  and  organize  themselves  as  a  governing  society. 
The  conquered  are  organized  as  an  industrial  society,  and 
are  compelled  to  do  directed  labour. 

Developed  Feudalism.  — If  the  conquered  territory  is  rela- 
tively wide  in  extent,  so  that  the  conquering  tribes  make 
but  a  scattered  population  in  their  new  dominions,  the 
semi-feudal  organization,  which  arose  before  the  migration, 
develops  into  that  territorial  feudalism  which  is  familiar 
to  readers  of  history. 

The  conquered  domain  has  been  divided  among  tribes 
and  subdivided  among  clans ;  but  the  king,  if  there  is  one, 
and  the  great  chieftains  have  received  tracts  over  which 
their  control  is  practically  absolute,  and  their  authority 
over  the  strictly  tribal  lands  also  tends  continually  to 
increase.  If,  for  a  long  period,  the  state  of  society  is 
unsettled,  tribal  lands  become  fiefs  —  tenures  under  a 
lord  —  through  voluntary  surrender.  Every  reader  of 
European  history  knows  how  great  a  part  voluntary 
surrender  played  in  the  development  of  continental  feu- 
dalism before  the  eleventh  century.  Harassed  by  ma- 
rauding bands,  the  weaker  owners  gladly  made  over 
their  holdings  to  some  powerful  chieftain  in  exchange 
for  his  protection. 

In  this  larger  development  of  feudalism,  wealth  in 
lands  plays  a  more  important  part  than  wealth  in  cattle ; 
and   for  this   reason   feudalism  is   often   described  as  a 


^ 


Civilization  277 

system  of  land  tenure.  Strictly  speaking,  however,  feu- 
dalism  is  a  form  of  social  organization,  in  which  land 
tenure,  or  cattle  ownership,  or  any  other  mode  of  prop- 
erty, is  merely  an  incident.  Developed  feudalism,  however, 
is  in  several  important  respects  different  <from  the  earlier 
tribal  feudalism  out  of  which  it  grew.  The  chief  differ- 
ence is  found  in  the  hereditary  character  of  the  fiefs  of 
territorial  feudalism.  Great  as  was  the  power  of  maraud- 
ing chieftains  in  later  tribal  days,  the  tribes  themselves 
usually  retained  the  ultimate  control  over  land.  The 
holdings  given  by  a  chieftain  to  his  followers  were  usually 
for  a  lifetime  only.  In  the  later  feudalism,  after  voluntary 
surrender  in  exchange  for  protection  had  completely  de- 
stroyed the  earlier  authority  of  tribe  or  clan,  fiefs  descended  ^ 
as  hereditary  possessions.  The  feudalism  of  western  Eu- 
rope was  further  complicated  by  forms  of  Roman  law 
that  had  survived  the  destruction  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
On  account  of  these  complications,  the  records  of  Middle 
Age  European  feudalism  are  not,  in  all  respects,  the  best 
materials  for  the  student  who  is  obtaining  his  first  im- 
pressions of  the  subject.  Clear  pictures  of  a  rude  feudal 
organization  of  society  subsequent  to  territorial  conquest 
are  presented  in  the  book  of  Judges  in  the  Old  Testament 
and  in  the  Odyssey  of  Homer. 

Feudalism  has  always  attained  its  highest  development 
in  sparse  populations.  This  condition  and  its  own  charac- 
ter have  made  it  a  powerful  decentralizing  influence.  It 
has  always  tended  to  weaken  the  power  of  the  king  and 
to  disguise  the  essential  unity  of  the  people.  Political 
sovereignty,  therefore,  has  been  for  a  time  less  definite 
after  the  complete  establishment  of  territorial  feudalism  ' 
than  it  was  at  the  moment   of   migration  and   conquest. 


2/8  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

Nevertheless,  it  remains  inherent  in  the  people.  The 
king's  word  is  still  its  supreme  declaration.  The  con- 
version of  social  relations  into  definite  institutions  does 
not  cease,  and  the  social  organization  becomes  continually 
more  efficient. 

The  Rise  of  Towns.  —  Even  under  feudalism,  therefore, 
life  and  property  are  made  more  secure  than  they  were 
in  nomadic  days.     Population  and  wealth  increase. 

The  differentiation  of  town  from  rural  life  now  begins. 
The  local  agricultural  group  at  this  time  is  a  village 
community;  and  the  social  organization  of  the  country 
population  in  general  is  manorial  in  form.  The  soil  is 
periodically  apportioned  among  its  cultivators  —  a  prac- 
tice that  has  survived  from  the  days  of  their  common 
possession  as  clansmen ;  but  the  cultivators  now  are  ser- 
vile. They  no  longer  own  as  clans  or  tribes  (as  individ- 
uals they  never  owned)  the  land  that  they  till.  They 
render  service  and  pay  tribute  to  a  lord.  Cities,  in  the 
modern  sense  of  the  word,  do  not  yet  exist.  There  are 
no  centres  of  dense  population ;  but  there  are  centres 
of  worship  and  defence,  sacred  places  to  which  men 
gather  from  near  and  far  to  make  periodical  sacrifices 
to  their  tribal  deities.  These  homes  of  the  gods  are 
fortified.  The  people  flee  to  them  in  times  of  danger. 
They  are  centres  of  administration  and  justice ;  for  here 
kings  and  judges  hold  their  court.  In  the  course  of 
time,  tribal  chiefs  and  elders,  priests  and  military  leaders, 
establish  their  permanent  homes  in  these  holy  places. 
Garrisons  of  soldiers  are  permanently  stationed  near 
them.  Artisans  and  labourers  are  brought  to  them  to  care 
for  the  temple,  to  build  the  fortifications,  and  to  manu- 
facture weapons,  armour,  and  clothing  for  the  soldiers. 


Civilization  279 

Trade.  —  The  currents  of  trade  begin  now  to  flow 
steadily  towards  these  centres  of  religious  and  social 
life.  The  periodical  festivals  and  sacrifices  afford  oppor- 
tunities for  exchange.  A  brisk  barter  is  carried  on  by 
the  assembled  clansmen.  Cattle,  corn  ^nd  fruits,  metal 
work  and  woven  fabrics,  armour  and  utensils,  salts,  spices 
and  gums,  wines  and  oils,  incense  and  perfumes,  pass 
from  owner  to  owner.  The  religious  festival  becomes  a 
great  fair  and  market. 

Little  by  little,  the  intervals  between  the  periodical 
fairs  are  shortened.  The  population  that  has  gathered 
around  the  religious  and  military  nucleus  steadily  in- 
creases. Local  manufactures  are  multiplied  and  trade 
becomes  an  everyday  affair. 

Money.  —  The  division  of  labour  between  city  and  coun- 
try, which  Adam  Smith  described  as  the  fundamental 
industrial  differentiation,  is  now  fully  established.  Agri- 
cultural produce  is  now  regularly  brought  to  town  for  . 
the  subsistence  of  the  urban  population ;  and  the  wares 
that  are  most  often  purchased  by  countrymen  are  regu- 
larly manufactured  for  sale.  Considerable  accumulations 
of  free  capital  in  such  concrete  forms  as  cattle,  grain, 
implements,  and  stores  of  manufactured  goods  have  by 
this  time  been  made.  Some  one  commodity  has  been 
exchanged  more  frequently  than  any  other,  and  men  have 
discovered  that  with  it  they  can  purchase  any  commodity 
that  they  may  desire.  Whatever  this  specially  well-known 
and  highly  valued  commodity  may  be,  whether  oxen  or 
grain,  salt,  iron,  copper,  beads,  shells,  or  precious  metals, 
it  is  a  true  medium  of  exchange;  and  as  soon  as  by  a 
common  or  tacit  consent  it  is  everywhere  accepted  in 
discharge  of  debts,  it  is  a  true  money. 


28o  The  Elemettts  of  Sociology 

The  Merchant  Class.  —  The  appearance  of  money  is 
followed  by  the  development  of  a  merchant  class,  which 
could  not  sooner  have  come  into  existence  because  the 
merchant  must  have  the  means  to  purchase  all  kinds  of 
wares,  and  must  be  able  to  hold  them  in  stock.  He  must, 
therefore,  be  able  to  offer  in  payment  that  which  will  be 
universally  acceptable.  From  this  time  forth,  the  artisan 
and  the  husbandman  no  longer  deal  directly  with  one 
another :  each  sells  to  the  merchant  and  buys  from  him  ; 
and  the  merchant  class  becomes  a  principal  element  in 
the  town  population. 

Citizenslilp.  —  Industry  and  commerce  weaken  the  tribal 
bonds  already  impaired  by  feudalism.  To  the  centres 
of  trade  come  men  of  alien  tribes  in  search  of  economic 
gain,  as  they  did  in  Greece  where,  as  early  as  the  time 
of  Lycurgus,  there  was  already  a  steady  immigration 
from  the  Mediterranean  Islands  and  from  the  Ionian 
settlements  of  the  eastern  coast. 

Unattached  to  the  tribes  with  which  they  have  cast 
their  fortunes,  but  acquiring  wealth  and  power,  the  mis- 
cellaneous elements  of  a  town  population  demand  juristic 
y/  and  political  rights.  Persons  of  distinction  may  get  them- 
selves adopted  into  a  clan  or  may  secure  the  admission 
of  their  own  clan  into  a  tribe ;  but  these  privileges  are  not 
generally  accorded.  It  is  evident  that  some  other  than 
the  gentile  basis  must  be  found  for  the  organization  of 
the  state.  The  institution-making  power  of  sovereignty  is 
compelled  to  deal  with  a  wholly  novel  problem. 
\/  Commercial  rights  are  granted  with  but  little  hesitation. 
The  foreign  born  are  allowed,  as  they  were  at  Rome,  the 
full  protection  of  the  local  law  in  all  affairs  of  trade. 
Rights  of  intermarriage,  however,  between  the  newer  and 


Civilization  281 

the  older  population  are  withheld  as  long  as  possible. 
To  permit  the  alien  to  marry  into  a  local  clan  is  to  admit 
the  wife  to  the  worship  of  strange  gods,  and  seems  likely 
to  end  in  intrusting  to  strangers  the  solemn  sacrifices  to 
the  city's  dead.  So  serious  an  innovation  is  not  permitted 
until  revolutionary  pressure  becomes  irresistible. 

When,  however,  the  trading  class  presently  outnumbers 
the  older  population,  and  greatly  surpasses  it  in  wealth, 
it  becomes  clear  that  the  unorganized  but  prosperous 
multitude  cannot  peripanently  be  exempted  from  the  duty 
of  supporting  and  of  defending  the  state ;  and  that  unless 
in  some  manner  it  is  incorporated  in  the  body  politic,  it  can 
overthrow  the  city  that  has  sheltered  it.  It  then  becomes 
evident  to  all  that  the  ancestral  gods  whose  worship  has 
been  kept  pure  by  the  restrictions  of  the  marriage  laws  are 
now  in  danger  of  a  violent  destruction. 

It  is  not,  however,  an  easy  matter  to  discover  the  best 
means  of  incorporating  in  a  tribal  state  a  heterogeneous 
multitude  of  unrelated  men.  The  history  of  Athens  and 
of  Rome  records  many  unsuccessful  attempts  to  deal  with 
this  problem.  Among  these  was  one  associated  with  the 
name  of  the  legendary  hero  Theseus,  who  organized 
society  by  classes ;  namely,  the  well-born,  the  husband- 
men, and  the  artisans.  This  was  evidently  an  attempt 
to  make  feudal  relationships  and  the  relationship  created 
by  conquest  the  basis  of  the  social  system,  in  place  of 
kinship.  Next  was  made  an  attempt  to  organize  society 
on  a  basis  of  property  and  military  service.  All  freemen, 
though  not  connected  with  any  clan,  were  enrolled  in  the 
army,  and  were  given  a  certain  voice  in  public  affairs. 
The  successful  plan  finally  hit  upon  is  associated  with 
the  name  of  Cleisthenes.     It  was  exceedingly  simple  in 


l^ 


282  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

principle;  and  it  has  continued  to  the  present  time. 
Clans  and  tribes  had  long  been  localized.  Their  names 
had  become  permanently  associated  with  definite  territo- 
rial limits  over  which  they  claimed  jurisdiction.  Within 
each  territorial  subdivision  were  both  clansmen  and  stran- 
gers. The  state  simply  decreed  that  all  men  who  lived 
within  the  boundaries  of  any  local  subdivision  of  a  tribal 
domain  should  be  enrolled  as  members  of  the  local  com- 
munity which  dwelt  there ;  that  all  who  dwelt  within  the 
domain  of  any  tribe  should  be  en^^olled  as  members  of 
that  tribe.  Kinship  might  still  be  traced  by  those  who 
cared  about  it ;  every  one  could  retain  his  clan  name  and 
his  religious  rites  according  to  ancestral  custom.  In  other 
words,  the  gentile  system  might  be  continued  for  social  and 
religious  purposes ;  but  for  juristic,  political,  and  military 
purposes  men  were  organized  by  territorial  relations,  irre- 
spective of  kinship. 

Thus,  at  length,  the  gentile  was  converted  into  the  civil 
organization  of  society.  Gradually,  tribal  lines  were  more 
or  less  artificially  redrawn ;  and  at  length  it  was  forgotten 
that  local  boundaries  ever  marked  tribal  domains,  and  that 
village  names  were  once  the  names  of  clans  or  of  subdivi- 
sions of  clans. 

This  transition  took  place  before  or  soon  after  the 
beginning  of  the  historical  period  in  every  ancient  state, 
—  in  Egypt,  in  Babylonia,  in  Greece,  and  in  Rome.  At  a 
later  time,  it  took  place  in  every  nation  founded  by  the 
Germanic  tribes  that  overran  the  Roman  Empire.  There, 
however,  it  was  furthered  and  hastened  by  the  contact 
with  Roman  institutions. 

The  Civic  Nation.  —  It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  however, 
that  the  creation  of   the  territorial   state   obliterates   the 


Civilization  283 

thought  of  an  ethnic  unity.  It  only  subordinates  it  to  a 
higher  ideal,  in  which  the  conception  of  territorial  unity  is 
given  a  more  important  place  than  it  has  hitherto  held. 
The  state  still  consciously  strives  to  secure  the  ethnic 
unity  of  its  population ;  but  the  attempt  ^s  not  now  to  pre- 
serve the  purity  of  an  ancient  blood.  It  is  rather  to  per- 
fect a  new  ethnic  unity  that  is  to  emerge  from  the  blending 
of  many  elements.  The  consciousness  of  kind  has  broad-  ^ 
ened ;  the  possibilities  of  assimilation  are  perceived ;  it  is 
realized  that  men  who  have  identified  their  interests  with 
those  of  an  ancient  race,  who  have  learned  its  language 
and  adopted  its  religion,  may,  by  these  means,  become 
identified  with  it  in  spirit,  and  ultimately,  through  inter- 
marriage, may  become  united  with  it  in  blood.  Through 
the  influence  of  this  idea,  the  fiction  of  adoption  is  pre- 
served in  the  law  of  naturalization. 

The  Spirit  and  Policies  of  Civilization.  —  Animated  by 
its  enlarged  ideas  of  ethnic  and  territorial  unity,  the  state 
enters  upon  the  realization  of  a  positive  policy.  It  en- 
deavours to  bring  under  one  sovereignty  all  related  peoples  ^ 
that  speak  allied  languages  and  that  have  like  interests. 
It  endeavours  to  bring  under  one  administration  all  frag- 
ments of  territory  that  together  form  a  natural  whole  for 
purposes  of  commerce,  social  intercourse,  and  military 
defence. 

At  this  stage,  for  the  first  time,  the  essential  spirit  of 
civilization  is  disclosed.  That  spirit  is  nothing  more  or 
less  than  a  passion  for  homogeneity.  It  is  a  resistless 
desire  of  the  social  mind  to  secure  to  the  utmost  possible 
degree  sympathetic  and  formal  like-mindedness  through- 
out a  population  that  is  believed  to  have  the  capacity  for 
assimilation ;    to    perfect   a   social   composition   that   also 


284  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

shall  be  homogeneous  throughout,  and  to  establish  over  it 
jl  a  supreme  and  unified  social  constitution. 
*^  Militarism.  —  This  spirit  now  begins  to  work  itself  out 
through  various  means,  the  first  of  which  is  a  career  of 
aggression  and  conquest  to  bring  into  the  enlarging  state 
all  those  outlying  populations  that  are  believed  to  be  suit- 
able components  of  the  larger  nation.  This  necessitates  a 
perfect  internal  cohesion.  Every  interest  is  sacrificed  to 
military  discipline.  To  a  great  extent  the  organization  of 
society  becomes  coercive ;  and  to  a  great  degree  individual 
freedom  is  sacrificed. 

All  this  has  its  evil  side ;  but  it  has  also  its  good  side 
which  must  not  be  overlooked.     Military  discipline  was 

/  one  of  the  first  and  most  powerful  means  by  which  assimi- 
lation was  brought  about  and  a  certain  degree  of  formal 
like-mindedness  was  established  throughout  the  early  civie 
nation. 

When  conquest  and  military  organization  have  accom- 
plished their  immediate  purpose,  and  many  petty  states 
and  more  or  less  heterogeneous  populations  have  been 
consolidated,  the  passion  for  homogeneity  manifests  itself 
in  further  policies,  the  object  of  which  is  to  perfect  the 
general  conformity  of  the  entire  population  to  a  prevail- 
ing type ;  that  is  to  say,  to  increase  the  formal  like-mind- 
edness of  the  entire  population  of  the  nation  and  to  perfect 
the  homogeneity  of  the  social  composition. 

Religious  Unificatio7t.  —  The  first  of  these  is  the  reli- 

J  gious  policy.  Religion,  which  has  long  been  a  medley  of 
ancestral  faiths,  is  made  national  and  organic.  Family, 
gentile,  and  local  gods  are  thoroughly  subordinated  to  the 
national  god,  who  is  represented  by  the  king  and  the  cen- 
tralized  priesthood.     The  national  religion  is  thus  made 


Civilization  285 

by  its  sanctions  to  uphold  the  authority  of  the  central 
administration.  Divine  qualities  are  imputed  to  the  king, 
as  they  were  in  Egypt,  in  Judea,  and  in  the  France  of 
Louis  XIV,  as  they  are  imputed  even  to-day  to  the 
Czar  of  Russia ;  and  he  is  encouraged  to  assert  arbitrary 
powers. 

If  much  difficulty  is  experienced  in  securing  homoge- 
neity of  religious  faith  and  ceremonial,  a  policy  of  perse- 
cution is  commonly  adopted.  Obstinate  adherents  to  old 
faiths  are  subjected  to  such  penalties  as  political  disabil- 
ities, loss  of  property,  imprisonment,  or  torture ;  and,  if 
these  are  insufficient,  to  death.  The  story  of  this  policy 
is  a  large  part  of  the  history  of  every  nation. 

Sumptuary  Administration.  —  Another  policy,  having 
in  view  the  same  end  of  conformity  and  homogeneity,  is 
a  minute  regulation  of  individual  right  and  conduct.  The  ^ 
food  that  shall  be  eaten,  the  costumes  that  shall  be  worn, 
the  ceremonials  that  shall  be  observed,  the  professions 
and  callings  that  shall  be  followed,  are  all  minutely  de- 
scribed, to  the  end  that  men  shall  act  alike,  feel  alike,  and 
think  alike,  as  members  of  a  compact  and  closely  unified 
national  community. 

All  this,  like  militancy,  has  its  evil  side ;  but  in  the  days 
of  nation  making,  it  has  also  its  good  side.  It  undoubtedly 
does  promote  the  desired  end,  and  results  in  the  creation 
of  a  homogeneous  population. 

Isolation.  — ^  When  national  unity  and  power  have  fairly 
been  achieved,  and  the  nation  is  in  no  immediate  danger 
of  overthrow  by  more  powerful  enemies,  a  further  policy 
often  carried  out  is  that  of  isolation.  Feeling  the  supe-  ^ 
riority  of  its  culture  and  institutions  to  those  of  other 
peoples,  the  nation  endeavours  in  a  measure  to  cut  itself 


286  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

off  from  intercourse  with  them,  lest  foreign  laws  and  man- 
ners shall  corrupt,  contaminate,  and  disintegrate  the  na- 
tional life.  This  policy  may  perhaps  have  its  justification 
under  exceptional  circumstances ;  but  usually  it  has  been 
a  step  towards  national  decay.  It  has  been  a  chief  factor 
in  producing  what  are  called  "arrested  civilizations,"  like 
those  of  China  and  Persia. 

Unstable  and  Stable  Civilizations.  —  Conquest  has  not 
always  ended  when  political  integration  has  gone  to  the 
limit  of  absorbing  those  weaker  states  that  are  territorially 
adjacent  to  the  conquering  power,  and  are  in  their  popu- 
lation and  social  forms  fit  to  become  component  societies 
in  a  larger  national  state.  In  history  ambition  has  repeat- 
edly overleaped  its  proper  bounds,  and  visions  of  universal 
empire  have  arisen  before  the  eyes  of  powerful  monarchs. 
Egypt,  Babylon,  Nineveh,  Macedonia,  Rome,  Carthage, 
and  again  Rome,  one  after  the  other,  undertook  to  con- 
quer the  world.  Distant  peoples  that  never  could  be  an 
integral  part  of  the  conquering  nation  were  subjugated  in 
mere  wantonness  of  power.  While  all  such  conquests 
were  destined  to  result  in  ultimate  failure,  they  had  for 
the  time  being  certain  good  consequences  for  civilization. 
The  conquered  peoples  were  made  to  pay  tribute  to  the 
conquerors,  whose  capital  cities  increased  enormously  in 
wealth.  This  wealth  resulted  in  marvellous  material 
splendour,  and  in  a  high  development  of  art  in  its  first 
rude  forms  of  architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting. 

The  early  civilizations,  including  that  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  were  essentially  unstable  because  their  fabulous 
and  magnificent  wealth  was  a  continual  temptation  to  the 
barbarians  of  the  outer  world  who,  after  incursions  for 
thousands  of  years  into  the  valleys  of  the  Nile  and  the 


Civilization  287 

Euphraces,  into  the  Grecian  Peninsula,  and  into  Italy, 
finally  overwhelmed  the  Roman  Empire. 

But  the  Germanic  nations,  simultaneously  prepared 
for  civilization  by  their  own  inherent  development  and 
by  their  long  contact  with  Rome,  entered  upon  politi- 
cal evolution  under  precisely  opposite  conditions.  They 
simultaneously  grew  into  statehood  in  an  environment 
of  civilization  which,  for  ages,  had  lain  between  them  and 
the  more  remote  barbarism  of  central  Africa  and  central 
Asia;  and  on  the  partial  ruins  of  the  western  extension 
of  that  civilization  they  built.  Protected  thus  in  great 
measure  from  the  danger  of  barbarian  invasion,  a  danger 
which  only  twice  in  the  history  of  Europe  has  become 
imminent,  —  once  when  the  Huns  swept  in  from  the  Asian 
plains,  and  once  when  the  Moors,  having  conquered  Spain, 
invaded  France,  —  western  or  modern  civilization  has  re- 
mained essentially  stable. 

Growing  side  by  side  and  too  nearly  equal  in  power  for 
any  one  of  them  to  hope  to  maintain  supremacy  over  any 
other,  the  modern  western  nations  passed  through  the 
first  stage  of  civilization,  that,  namely,  of  political  inte- 
gration and  of  a  rough,  effective  organization  of  a  central 
governing  power,  with  less  suppression  of  the  minor  inter- 
ests of  life  than  occurred  in  Egypt  and  in  the  East.  Mili- 
tancy has  never  been  carried  to  quite  the  same  excess 
among  them.  Isolation  and  religious  uniformity  have 
never  been  quite  as  rigorously  enforced,  although  in  Eu- 
ropean history  there  have  been  fierce  religious  persecu- 
tions, especially  in  France  and  in  Spain,  undertaken  for 
the  purpose  of  perfecting  that  formal  like-mindedness 
which  consists  in  homogeneity  of  belief. 

The  Nature  and  Benefits  of  Civilization.  —  What  have  been 


288  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

the  chief  benefits  conferred  upon  mankind,  and  what  new 
features  have  been  contributed  by  civilization  ? 
V  Civilization  is  the  first  stage  of  demogenic  association. 

As  zoogenic  association  was  that  earliest  social  intercourse 
which  developed  the  forms  of  animal  life ;  as  anthropo- 
genic association  was  that  more  varied  intercourse  which 
created  the  human  mind;  as  ethnogenic  association  was 
that  organized  intercourse  which  created  a  folk ;  so  demo- 
genic association  is  that  intercourse,  both  varied  and  organ- 
ized, which  develops  great  civic  peoples,  ever  increasing 
in  wealth  and  in  population,  and  ever  growing  more  demo- 

£_cratic  in  mind. 

Civilization  cannot  be  defined  in  a  phrase,  because  it 
includes  many  things,  all  of  which  are  essential.  It  con- 
sists in  the  adoption  of  a  permanent  territorial  home  and 
of  habits  of  settled  life ;  in  the  supremacy  of  the  state  and, 
therefore,  of  the  social  constitution  over  the  entire  social 
composition;  in  the  substitution  of  mental  and  moral  re- 
semblance for  kinship,  as  a  basis  of  social  organization; 
in  the  assimilation  of  various  population  elements  in  a 
new  and  larger  ethnic  unity;  in  an  integration  of  the 
social  composition ;  and  in  an  increasing  homogeneity  in 
politics,  religion,  manners,  and  habits.  Chief  among  these 
elements  of  civilization,  however,  is  that  sympathetic  and 
formal  like-mindedness  which  is  unlimited  by  ties  of  kin- 
ship and  which,  manifesting  itself  in  a  passion  for  homo- 
geneity in  the  nation,  creates  those  policies  of  military 

.  discipline,    religious   conformity,   and   moral   requirement 

j^  that  result  in  national  and  social  unity. 

The  homogeneity  of  the  civic  nation  has  had  two  con- 
sequences without  which  those  further  developments  of 
society  and  of  human  life  to  be  described  under  the  head 


Civiliza  Hon  289 

of  Progress  could  not  have  appeared.  It  will  be  remem- 
bered that  in  the  account  of  the  character  and  efficiency 
of  social  organization,  it  was  shown  that  liberty  de- 
pends upon  homogeneity  in  the  population.  In  its  ear- 
liest stages,  civilization  allowed  little  freedom  to  the 
individual.  It  permitted  no  growth  of  the  voluntary 
forms  of  organization  in  the  social  constitution.  But  by 
hastening  the  processes  of  assimilation,  by  eliminating 
irreconcilable  differences  from  the  social  population,  by 
creating  homogeneity,  sympathetic  and  formal  like-minded- 
ness,  it  did  prepare  populations  for  liberty  later  on.  I:  ^ 
made  men  fit  for  the  self-government  and  the  voluntary 
enterprise  of  a  second  stage  of  demogenic  association. 

By  bringing  allied  populations  together  in  one  embra- 
cing political  organization,  by  perfecting  the  machinery  of 
.government,  by  eliminating  causes  of  antagonism,  civiliza- 
tion has  also  put  an  end  to  innumerable  forms  of  conflict, 
to  innumerable  unnoticed  wastes  of  energy,  and  so  has 
liberated,  for  other  expenditures,  enormous  stores  of 
mental  and  physical  force.  The  energies  thus  saved 
from  waste  and  set  free  have  been  the  cause  of  endless 
variation,  differentiation,  and  progress  in  later  times. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Read  Bagehot's  "  Physics  and  Politics  "  ;  Spencer's  "  Principles  of  Soci- 
ology," Volume  II,  Part  V,  Chapter  XVII ;  Brooks  Adams's  "The  Law 
of  Civilization  and  Decay  "  ;  and  Kidd's  "  The  Control  of  the  Tropics." 
In  European  history,  study  the  rise  of  the  Roman  Empire,  the  rise  oi 
the  empire  of  Charlemagne,  feudalism  and  chivalry,  the  reign  of  Philip 
Augustus,  the  persecution  of  the  Huguenots,  and  the  reign  of  Louis 
XIV ;  and  read  Buckle's  sketch  of  the  history  of  Spain  in  the  "  Intro- 
duction to  the  History  of  Civilization  in  England." 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

Progress 

The  Nature  and  Causes  of  Progress.  —  In  saying  that  the 

establishment  of  civilization  is  the  first  stage  of  demogenic, 

or   civic,    evolution,    wq   do    not    refer   to   any  particular 

ITperiod  of  time.     Stages  of  social  evolution  are  not  chrono- 

V  LJpgical  periods.     They  are  like  stages  in  the  growth  of  a 

tree,   v\^hose   stem    and    branches    must    attain   size  "and 

strength  before  there  can  be  blossom  and  fruit,  or  like  the 

seven  ages  of  man,  except  that  no  nation  has  ever  reached 

■   a  second  childhood.     Therefore,  in  the  study  of  demogenic 

evolution,  whether  our  example  is  a  nation  that  lived  and 

perished  ages  ago,  or  one  that  is  only  now  emerging  from 

tribal  organization,  we  have,  before  all  else,  to  observe  suc- 

;  cessive  stages  of  development.     The  facts  set  forth  in  the 

preceding  chapter,   then,   whether  they  appeared   in  the 

\    history  of  the  world  before  the  Christian  era,  or  whether 

they  appear  now,  are  facts  of  the  first  stage  only  of  civic 

national  life. 

A  second  stage  of  demogenic  evolution  begins  whenever 
the  nation  learns  to  appreciate  the  value  of  unlike-minded- 
ness  in  the  population  ;  the  value  of  doubt,  scepticism,  and 
denial  in  the  social  mind  ;  the  value  of  individual  initiative 
and  voluntary  organization ;  the  value,  in  short,  of  variation 
and  criticism,  as  causes  of  progress.  In  other  words,  whi' 
civilization  is  established  by  sympathetic  and  formal  liki 

290 


Progress  i  291 

mindedness,  a  social  organization  that  is  no  longer  fixed, 
unyielding,  hardening  into  a  rigid  system  that  must  pres- 
ently decay,  but  is  becoming  ever  more  variable,  flexible, 
adaptable,  in  a  word,  progressive,  is  a  product  of  un-  / 
like-mindedness,  discussion,  and  agreement,  and  of  the 
resulting  rational  like-mindedness. 

On  the  side  of  the  social  mind,  then,  the  second  stage  of  ) 
civic  evolution  is  the  gradual  subordination  of  formal  to 
rational  like-mindedness.  On  the  side  of  social  organiza- 
tion, it  is  the  growth  of  the  free  or  voluntary  forms  of 
purposive  association,  replacing  the  arbitrary  coercive^ 
forms  of  a  military  system ;  and  in  the  relation  of  the 
individual  to  social  organization,  it  is  the  substitution  of 
liberty  for  authority  and  coercion. 

In  common  use  the  word  ''civilization  "  is  applied  to  civic 
national  life  in  all  its  phases  and  in  every  stage  of  its  de- 
velopment. This  use  is  convenient  and  legitimate.  If, 
however,  we  follow  it  in  sociological  analysis,  we  must  em- 
ploy modifying  words  to  distinguish  the  successive  stages 
of  civic  evolution.  So  doing,  we  may  speak  of  that  first 
stage  which  was  described  in  the  preceding  chapter  as  a 
military-religious  civilization.  The  second  stage  of  civic 
evolution  is  a  liberal-legal  civilization.  The  forms  of  con- 
stitutional law  and  of  free  contract  have  replaced  those  of 
despotic  authority  and  of  "divine  right." 

Free  Energy.  —  The  causes  of  the  variation,  criticism, 
and  liberality  of  the  second  stage  of  civic  evolution  are 
themselves  generated  in  the  first  stage,  as  has  been  indi- 
cated. Homogeneity  prepares  the  way  for  freedom.  The 
saving  of  human  energy  by  means  of  successful  political 
prganization  provides  the  store  of  energy  for  voluntary  en- 
cerprise  in  new  undertakings  of  various  kinds. 


292  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

The  chief  liberation  of  energy,  however,  occurs  when, 
through  successful  military  operations,  all  formidable  ene- 
mies have  been  subjugated,  and  all  outlying  territories 
have  been  annexed.  The  very  success  of  such  undertak- 
ings brings  the  occupation  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
men  to  an  end.  With  no  more  worlds  to  conquer,  they 
perforce  turn  to  other  than  military  occupations. 

At  this  point  in  the  evolution  of  empires,  it  has  always 
happened  that  great  internal  changes  have  begun.  Liber- 
y  ated  thought  and  energy  have  turned  themselves  upon 
domestic  affairs.  They  have  scrutinized  institutions  and 
laws.  They  have  rebelled  against  a  further  coercion  of 
the  individual.  Not  infrequently,  they  have  instigated 
revolutions.  The  material  for  the  criticism  of  institutions 
has  been  abundant,  since  contact  with  other  nations  in 
military  expeditions,  and  the  annexation  of  state  after 
state  to  the  growing  empire,  have  brought  into  its  own  sys- 
tem peoples,  laws,  manners,  customs  hitherto  foreign  and 
more  or  less  strange.  So  much  material  for  comparison 
has  inevitably  shown  many  differences  as  well  as  many 
resemblances  in  social  constitutions  and  policies,  and  has 
yielded  many  suggestions  for  the  modification  or  the  reform 
of  central  and  local  governments. 

The  Plastic  Mind.  —  Still  more  important  has  been  the 
great  admixture  of  elements  in  the  population  in  conse- 
quence of  war,  conquest,  slavery,  and  trade.  Both  physi- 
caLand  mental  plasticity  have  been  among  the  conse- 
quences of  the  assimilation  of  so  many  differing  factors 
in  the  demotic  composition. 

In  the  plastic  consciousness  of  an  alert  and  versatile 
population,  the  investigating,  critical,  and  philosophical 
spirit  arises.     Discovery  is  pursued  for  its  own  sake ;  and 


Progress  293 

geography,  history,  and  science  become  serious  intellectual 
interests.  Then,  as  different  communities  and  different 
stages  of  culture  are  compared,  and  as  the  dissatisfaction 
with  existing  conditions  is  analyzed,  the  idea  of  a  possible 
improvement  is  conceived.  Protestantispi,  in  the  large 
sense  of  the  word,  begins  to  be  influential,  and  the  now 
fully  self-conscious  community  undertakes  its  own  reorgani- 
zation and  advancement. 

Social  Selection.  —  While  the  critical  phase  of  mental 
evolution  characterizes  all  civil  societies  at  a  certain  stage, 
it  does  so  in  unequal  degrees.  Some  societies  having  made 
a  measure  of  progress,  become  stationary ;  others  remain 
merely  modifiable;  a  few  continue  to  be  inherently  pro- 
gressive. These  inequalities  are  explained  by  selection. 
Survival  and  selection  confirm  the  variability  and  the  grow- 
ing power  of  some  societies,  the  modifiability  of  others,  and 
the  rigidity  of  others.  They  fix  the  type  of  each  nation- 
ality and  of  each  community.  Types  of  society  result. 
The  United  States,  England,  and  Germany  are  inherently 
progressive  nations.  Ireland  and  the  Slavonic  provinces 
of  Austria  and  of  Turkey  are  modifiable ;  Spain  and  the 
French  provinces  of  Canada  are  arrested  or  stationary 
societies. 

A  continual  sifting  goes  on.  Energetic  young  men 
hasten  from  meagre  opportunities  and  social  stagnation 
to  improve  their  condition  where  resources  are  more 
abundant  and  the  population  is  more  active.  By  this 
means,  as  well  as  by  the  birth  rate,  the  predominance  of 
youthful  alert  minds  in  progressive  communities  is 
increased. 

The  community,  however,  reacts  upon  the  individual. 
The  influence  of  social  selection  in  favouring  those  who 


294  ^'^'^  Elements  of  Sociology 

conform  to  a  dominant  spirit  is  quite  as  important  as  is 
that  of  natural  selection  in  developing  those  that  are 
adapted  to  a  physical  environment.  Selection  may  ex- 
clude, suppress,  or  modify  those  who  show  too  much  vari- 
ability. A  man  whose  appearance  or  whose  mental  or 
moral  qualities  are  objectionable  to  his  fellows,  finds  few 
economic  opportunities ;  and,  other  things  being  equal, 
he  has  a  relatively  small  chance  of  leaving  offspring.  It 
makes  a  great  difference,  therefore,  whether  the  prevailing 
feeling  in  a  community  is  favourable  to  enterprise  or  to  a 
hopeless  conservatism.  One  community  desires  change ; 
it  admires  enterprise.  Another  cares  only  to  keep  things 
as  they  are.  Even  in  the  local  communities  of  the  same 
commonwealth,  these  differences  may  be  seen.  Selection 
favours  the  variable  type  in  one  ;  the  unmodifiable  type  in 
another.  The  discipline  of  early  life  creates  progressive 
habits  in  one  place ;  elsewhere  it  represses  every  impulse 
to  change. 

Thus  social  selection  operates  not  only  to  favour  enter- 
prising individuals  in  the  progressive  community,  and  to 
sort  out  the  enterprising  individuals  from  communities 
that  are  unprogressive ;  but  it  operates  also  on  the  double 
personality  of  each  individual.  Every  man  is  complex, 
containing  within  himself  both  progressive  and  conserva- 
tive tendencies.  If  the  spirit  of  the  community  in  which 
he  lives  is  progressive,  the  progressive  tendencies  in  his 
nature  are  stimulated,  and  the  conservative  tendencies  are 
atrophied. 

Furthermore,  those  individuals  are  developed  whose 
talents  are  in  demand  and,  in  the  same  individual,  the 
group  of  talents  that  is  of  immediate  service,  is  brought  to 
a  relative  perfection.     One  period  favours  the  soldier,  an- 


Progress  295 

other  the  business  man,  another  the  poet,  another  the 
man  of  science.  If  a  genius  is  born  in  a  conservative 
community,  either  he  seeks  a  more  congenial  social  envi- 
ronment elsew^here,  or  his  genius  is  crushed  before  it  is 
strong  enough  to  assert  itself.  If  he  is^born  where  men 
care  nothing  for  the  things  in  which  he  might  excel,  he 
never  realizes  the  possibilities  of  his  nature. 

When,  therefore,  a  mode  of  feeling  becomes  dominant, 
selection  intensifies  it.  Selection  has  produced  the  Ameri- 
can spirit,  with  its  desire  for  change,  its  love  of  experi- 
ment, and  its  respect  for  enterprise.  In  the  United 
States,  there  is  a  continual  weeding  out  of  unenterprising 
elements.  In  like  manner,  the  cities  are  more  enterpris- 
ing and  more  varying  than  the  rural  communities ;  and 
this  difference  between  city  and  country  has  been  in- 
creasing for  many  years. 

Liberal  Organization.  —  The  nation  that  has  become  prot- 
estant  and  progressive  has  to  face  the  task  of  achieving 
a  social  organization  that  shall  maintain  unity  and  stabil- 
ity, and  yet  shall  guarantee  liberty. 

Constitutional  Law.  —  From  comparative  studies  of  re- 
ligions, laws,  and  policies,  two  guiding  ideas  have  sprung. 
One  is  the  notion  of  a  jus  gentium  —  a  customary  law 
that,  in  its  essential  rules,  is  the  same  in  all  nations. 
In  its  infancy,  each  nation  has  regarded  itself  as  a  pecul- 
iar people.  It  has  cherished  its  law  as  a  body  of  unique 
and  unequalled  wisdom.  When,  therefore,  after  it  has 
subjugated  alien  peoples,  and  has  annexed  their  lands,  and 
has  discovered  that  their  systems  of  law  differ  only  in 
form  and  detail  from  its  own,  its  conception  of  the  nature 
of  law  necessarily  undergoes  a  profound  change.  It  finds 
itself  obliged  to  think  of  law  as  consisting  more  of  general 


296  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

than  of  peculiar  principles.  It  begins  to  think  of  certain 
principles  as  universally  true,  and  to  identify  them  with 
society.  It  observes,  moreover,  that  the  universal  rules 
of  customary  law  are  independent  of  the  forms  of  govern- 
ment ;  and  it  begins  to  regard  them,  therefore,  as  of 
superior  authority,  and  to  believe  that  governments 
should  themselves  be  subject  to  the  universally  accepted 
rules  of  right. 

The  other  guiding  idea  is  that  of  the  jus  naturce ;  and 
it  is  so  closely  related  to  the  notion  of  a  jus  gentium  as 
often  to  be  identified  with  it.  Both  historically  and  philo- 
sophically, however,  the  jtis  natures  is  distinct.  The  jus 
gentium  is  objective.  It  is  a  body  of  actually  sanctioned 
rules,  actually  operative  in  many  different  states.  The 
jus  naturcB  is  subjective  and  speculative.  It  is  the  result 
of  a  philosophical  attempt  to  find  the  rational  grounds  of 
moral  conduct.  It  is  a  set  of  ideal  rules  that  reason  ap- 
proves of ;  or,  as  Cicero  says,  it  "  is  the  highest  reason  im- 
planted in  nature,  which  commands  those  things  that  ought 
to  be  done,  and  prohibits  those  that  ought  not  to  be." 

From  this  conception  of  ideal  law  to  an  idealized  con- 
ception of  X.\\Q  jus  gentium  y  the  transition  is  easy;  and  the 
two  conceptions  are  often  confounded,  as  they  are  by 
Gains,  when  he  says  that  "whatever  natural  reason  has 
decreed  amongst  men  is  cherished  equally  by  all  nations, 
and  is  called  X,\\QJus  gentium^  as  if  all  nations  employed  it"  ; 
and  as  they  are  many  centuries  later  by  Jeremy  Taylor, 
when  he  writes  that  "  the  law  of  nature  is  the  universal 
law  of  the  world,  or  the  law  of  mankind,  concerning  com- 
mon necessities  to  which  we  are  inclined  by  nature,  invited 
by  consent,  prompted  by  reason,  but  is  bound  upon  us  only 
by  the  command  of  God." 


Progress  297 

From  such  ideas  the  inference  follows  that  the  people 
rather  than  their  governments  are  the  creators  of  sub- 
stantive law ;  and  that  the  people,  as  rational  moral 
beings,  ought  to  hold  themselves  and  their  governments 
to  the  obedience  of  that  "  highest  law  "  which,  once  more 
to  quote  Cicero,  "  was  born  in  all  the  ages  before  any  law 
was  written  or  state  was  formed,"  which  began  to  be  "at 
the  same  moment  with  the  mind  of  God." 

Prolonged  reflection  upon  these  conclusions  yields  fruit 
at  length  in  discussion ;  and  sooner  or  later  public  interest 
in  them  is  thoroughly  aroused.  A  legal  constitution  of 
society  is  seen  to  be  possible.  The  demand  43ecomes  in- 
sistent that  governments  shall  cease  to  exercise  arbitrary 
powers,  and  that  liberty  of  thought  and  action  within  the 
limits  prescribed  by  reason  shall  be  guaranteed  to  every 
individual.  It  is  unnecessary  to  tell  here  the  story  of 
the  rebellions  and  the  revolutions  through  which  the  de- 
mand has  been  enforced.  If  events  take  their  natural  \ 
course,  the  normal  outcome  is  everywhere  the  same.  \ 
Charters  and  guarantees  are  wrested  from  kings  whose 
divine  right  has  ceased  to  inspire  fear.  Little  by  little, 
legislation  is  interwoven  with  precedent,  and  the  strong 
fabric  of  constitutional  law  is  wrought.  The  powers  of 
governments  are  limited,  and  their  duties  are  defined. 
Freedom  of  contract  also  is  established  as  the  legal  basis 
of  the  minor  relations  of  life. 

Voluntary  Association.  —  From  this  time  forth,  volun- 
tary organization,  under  the  authority  and  protection  of 
law,  can  assume  endless  varieties  of  form  and  function. 
The  social  constitution  differentiates  and  redifferentiates 
until  it  becomes  a  structure  of  exceeding  complexity, 
delicately  adapted  to  the  service  of  an  enterprising  and 


298  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

progressive  people.  It  becomes  more  and  more  distinct 
from  the  social  composition.  The  church  is  separated 
from  the  organization  of  the  state,  and  is  made  subject 
to  the  political  sovereign.  There  is  a  rapid  development 
of  a  free  decentralized  industrial  organization.  The  minor 
forms  of  cooperative  association  are  multiplied ;  and  the 
division  of  labour  is  perfected. 

The  Policies  of  Liberalism.  —  When  a  people  has  con- 
sciously entered  upon  the  progressive  stage  of  civic  evolu- 
tion, it  usually  attempts  to  perfect  its  liberal-legal  civiliza- 
tion by  a  conscious  policy,  as  people  in  the  military-religious 
civilization  endeavour  by  definite  policies  to  perfect  and 
maintain  that. 

The  policies  by  which  the  liberal-legal  civilization  is 
perfected  are  naturally  quite  the  opposite  of  those  by 
which  a  military-religious  civilization  is  established.  In 
many  respects  rational  like-mindedness  is  different  from 
the  formal  like-mindedness  whose  chief  component  is 
belief,  rather  than  the  opinion  that  is  created  by  free 
discussion. 

World  Intercourse.  —  First,  then,  among  the  policies  by 
which  the  liberal-legal  civilization  is  perfected  is  the  en- 
couragement of  the  widest  and  freest  '\^orld  in^t£]::^ourse. 
The  contact  with  other  peoples,  customs,  manners,  and 
thought  is  recognized  as  the  indispensable  condition  for 
catholicity  of  view  and  alertness  of  mind.  Progressive 
peoples  invariably  distrust  any  policy  that  tends  towards 
"Si  isolation. 

Free  Thought.  —  Secondly,  progress  is  assured  by  en- 
(  "W  couraging  the  fullest  investigation  and  the  freest  discus- 
sion of  every  subject.  Instead  of  trying  to  compel  all 
men  to  accept  the  same  beliefs  taught  by  authority,  the 


Progress  299 

progressive  nation  encourages  every  man  to  think  for 
himself,  to  develop  his  own  mental  powers,  to  take  an 
independent  position  upon  every  question  and  interest, 
knowing  full  well  that  reason  is  not  a  chaotic  or  lawless 
power,  but  is  one  that  invariably  brings  rpen  to  agreement 
upon  the  basis  of  real  knowledge  and  demonstrated  truth. 

Legality. — Thirdly,  the  progressive  nation  tries  to 
perfect  its  liberal-legal  civilization  by  a  continued  study 
of  law  and  development  of  legality,  which  it  is  ever 
striving  to  substitute  for  arbitrary  authority,  not  only  in 
government,  but  in  all  social  relations.  Only  that  nation 
which  succeeds  in  perfecting  the  constitutional,  that  is  to 
say  the  legal  and  rational,  methods  of  government  and 
procedure,  can  preserve  both  individual  liberty  and  public 
order. 

The  History  of  Progress.  —  In  the  historical  development 
of  civilization,  many  nations  that  have  entered  upon  the 
second  stage  of  civic  evolution  have  been  unable  to  com- 
plete it. 

Greece  was  the  first  of  such  nations ;  Rome  was  the 
second.  Athens  splendidly  developed  the  critical  and 
philosophical  features  of  the  second  stage  of  civic  evolu- 
tion ;  but  she  failed  in  legal  construction.  Rome  exhibited 
great  practical  talent  in  legal  construction ;  but  she  failed 
to  maintain  a  healthy  spirit  of  criticism.  Liberty  and 
spontaneity  of  life  were  sacrificed  to  administrative  mecha- 
nism. In  both  Greece  and  Rome  the  failure  was  due 
to  the  never-ending  necessity  of  maintaining  a  highly 
efficient  mihtary  organization  —  with  its  inevitable  inci- 
dents of  arbitrary  power  —  in  the  face  of  formidable 
enemies. 

It  was  not  until  after  the  downfall  of  the  Roman  Empire, 


300  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

and  the  establishment  upon  its  ruins  of  the  modern  Euro- 
pean nations  founded  by  the  Germanic  tribes,  that  it  was 
possible  to  perfect  a  liberal-legal  civilization  in  any  part  of 
the  world.  The  beginnings  of  modern  progress  are  to  be 
studied  in  the  magnificent  history  of  the  Italian  cities, 
of  Florence,  Venice,  Sienna,  and  Bologna.  The  develop- 
ment of  liberalism  continued  through  the  Renaissance, 
the  Protestant  Reformation,  the  English  Revolution,  the 
great  eighteenth-century  awakening  of  thought  in  France, 
England,  and  Germany,  the  American  Revolution,  the 
French  Revolution,  the  Free  Trade  and  Reform  Movements 
in  England,  and  the  German  Liberal  Movement  of  1848. 
All  of  these  awakenings  and  upheavals  were  but  so  many 
phases  of  a  thorough-going  criticism  and  reconstruction  of 
social  policies  and  social  constitutions  on  lines  of  rationality, 
legality,  liberty,  and  free  association. 

It  has  not  happened  that  in  the  life  of  any  modern 
nation  or  family  of  nations,  the  first  and  second  stages  of 
civic  evolution  have  been  absolutely  distinct.  There  has 
been  much  overlapping.  Italy  and  Germany  attained  to 
national  unity  only  in  recent  years,  long  after  they  had 
been  profoundly  affected  by  the  general  liberal  movement, 
and  after  other  European  states  had  passed  through  the 
stage  of  constitutional  reconstruction.  Even  in  these  in- 
stances, however,  the  true  sequence  is  the  one  that  has 
been  described.  United  Germany  and  united  Italy  had 
only  entered  on  their  civil  life  when  their  political  con- 
solidation was  accomplished.  In  both  countries,  the  prac- 
tical problems  of  constitutional  organization  and  of  liberty 
are  yet  unsolved. 

Contributions  to  Well-being.  —  Liberal-legal  civilization  is 
thus  a  product  of  variation,  of  unlike-mindedness,  of  criti- 


Progress  301 

cism  and  discussion,  and  of  rational  like-mindedness.  The 
contributions  that  it  has  made  to  human  well-being,  and 
the  modifications  that  it  has  introduced  in  the  social 
system  are :  first,  appreciation  of  the  value  of  as  much 
unlike-mindedness  as  is  consistent  witlj  social  stability ; 
second,  the  growing  supremacy  of  reason  over  impulse 
and  formality  ;  third,  the  appreciation  of  criticism  ;  fourth, 
the  establishment  of  individual  freedom,  of  legality,  of 
voluntary  organization,  and  of  freedom  of  contract ;  and 
fifth,  the  introduction  of  flexibility,  not  inconsistent  with 
unity  and  stability,  in  the  social  constitution. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Study  the  periods  of  the  Renaissance,  the  Reformation,  and  the 
French  Revolution.  Read  MilFs  "  Liberty "  or  Rousseau's  "  Social 
Contract."    Read  Dicey's  "  The  Law  of  the  Constitution." 


CHAPTER   XXIV 
Democracy 

Wealth  and  Population.  —  There  is  a  third  stage  of  civic 
evolution  upon  which  nations  enter  when  they  have  so  far 
perfected  the  liberal-legal  civilization  that  they  have  a 
strong  constitutional  government  to  maintain  social  order 
and,  at  the  same  time,  practically  unlimited  freedom  of 
individual  enterprise  and  voluntary  organization. 

When,  in  such  a  nation,  the  most  urgent  problems  of 
constitutional  government  have  been  solved,  men  turn 
their  attention  seriously  to  the  task  of  improving  their 
material  condition,  and  give  themselves  earnestly  to  indus- 
/  trial  affairs.  Then  is  witnessed  a  marvellous  development 
of  invention,  of  mechanical  progress  and  industrial  organi- 
zation, and  an  enormously  rapid  growth  of  wealth.  Con- 
sequent upon  this  economic  progress,  there  is  an  astonish- 
ing growth  of  population,  which  brings  with  it  new  and 
complicated  social  problems,  especially  those  that  grow 
out  of  the  relations  of  employers  and  employed  and  the 
aspirations  of  the  working  classes.  The  final  outcome  is  a 
development  of  democracy,  and  coincident  with  it  a 
marked  development  of  ethical  interest.  This  third  stage 
of  civic  evolution  may,  therefore,  be  called  an  economic- 
ethical  civilization,  or  it  may,  with  equal  propriety,  be  called 
a  democratic  civilization. 

Prosperity  the  Offspring  of  Liberty.  —  In  studying  this 

302 


Democracy  303 

mode  of  civilization,  the  student  should  particularly  ob- 
serve that  it  is  a  consequence  of  the  high  development 
of  a  free  social  constitution  in  the  liberal-legal  stage  of 
evolution.  More  than  a  hundred  years  ago,  Adam  Smith,  *^ 
in  his  treatise  on  "The  Wealth  of  Nation^"  clearly  showed 
that  the  growth  of  wealth  is  a  consequence  of  the  divi- 
sion of  labour  and  of  freedom  of  individual  initiative.  His 
work  was  written  just  at  the  time  when  the  nations  of 
America,  France,  and  England  were  working  out  the 
problems  of  constitutional  government  and  freedom  oi 
contract.  Subsequent  events  have  verified  Adam  Smith's  * 
theory  more  conclusively  than  any  proposition  of  similar 
importance  has  been  verified  in  the  whole  history  of  social 
science. 

The  growth  of  wealth  and  of  population  in  western 
Europe  and  in  the  United  States  during  this  century  of 
political  and  industrial  liberty  has  been,  as  a  great  English 
statistician  has  called  it,  "a  phenomenon  absolutely  unique 
in  history."  Moreover,  the  most  rapid  growth  has  occurred 
in  the  freest  country,  the  United  States,  where  a  popula- 
tion of  3,929,214  in  1790  had  increased  to  62,622,250  in 
1890.  In  1850  the  great  nations  of  the  world  in  order  of 
population  were  Russia,  France,  Austro-Hungary,  Ger- 
many, the  United  Kingdom,  Italy,  the  United  States.  In 
1880  the  order  had  become:  Russia,  the  United  States, 
Germany,  Austro-Hungary,  France,  the  United  Kingdom, 
Italy. 

This  rapid  increase  of  population  has  been  due,  not  so 
much  to  any  increase  in  birth  rates,  as  to  a  great  decrease 
in  death  rates  in  consequence  of  more  abundant  food  sup- 
plies, of  sanitary  improvements,  and  of  the  advance  of 
medical  science. 


304  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

The  relations  of  the  increase  of  wealth  to  the  increase 
of  population  are  those  of  a  slow  rhythm  ;  and  this  rhythm  is 
related  also  to  continuing  changes  in  the  ideas  of  the  popu- 
lation, and  particularly  in  the  standard  of  living. 

The  Malthicsian  Law.  —  Early  in  the  present  century, 
Thomas  Robert  Malthus,  in  a  famous  work  on  '*  Popula- 
tion," put  forth  the  theory  that  population  tends  to  in- 
crease more  rapidly  than  the  means  of  subsistence. 
Actually  it  cannot  increase  more  rapidly,  because  when 
subsistence  fails,  population  is  held  in  check  by  famine, 
disease,  and  war.  The  only  means,  according  to  Malthus, 
whereby  mankind  can  prevent  this  calamity  is  prudence 
in  marriage.  If  men  made  sure  that  they  could  win  sub- 
sistence for  themselves  and  for  their  families  before  they 
contracted  marriage,  all  would  go  well,  and  population 
would  keep  within  the  means  of  subsistence.  In  the 
absence  of  this  prudential  check,  the  positive  checks  of 
famine,  disease,  and  war  necessarily  come  into  operation. 

Later  studies  of  wealth  and  population  have  shown  that 
Malthus's  theory  is  essentially  true,  but  that  his  formulas 
need  restatement.  Industrial  and  commercial  progress, 
especially  those  forms  of  progress  that  we  owe  to  inven- 
tion, m^y  for  a  time  insure  such  an  abundant  production 
of  the  bare  necessaries  of  life  that  subsistence  in  this 
narrow  sense  of  the  word  is  put  far  in  advance  of  popula- 
tion. No  community,  however,  is  satisfied  with  subsist- 
ence of  this  merely  physiological  kind.  In  a  progressive 
community,  the  standard  of  living  is  continually  rising. 
The  people  are  continually  feeling  new  desires,  and  are 
putting  forth  new  efforts  and  submitting  to  fresh  sacrifices 
to  realize  them.  In  distinction  from  the  standard  of 
living  as  thus  understood  and  as  defined  on  page  157,  is 


Democracy  305 

the  plane  of  living  of  the  community.  This  is  the  actual 
possession  and  enjoyment  of  certain  necessaries,  comforts, 
and  luxuries.  Or,  expressed  in  other  words,  the  plane  of 
living  is  the  level  of  subsistence  and  comfort  to  which 
a  population,  at  any  given  time,  has  actually  attained. 
The  plane  of  living  is  an  objective  fact,  while  the  stand- 
ard of  living  is  a  subjective  fact  —  a  fact  of  thought, 
desire,  and  purpose.  Bearing  these  distinctions  in  mind, 
the  student  of  Sociology,  when  investigating  this  problem 
of  the  relation  of  wealth  to  population,  should  fix  his 
attention,  not  on  the  amount  of  wealth  that  is  necessary 
to  keep  the  population  alive,  but  on  the  amount  that  is 
necessary  to  raise  the  general  plane  of  living,  generation 
after  generation.  In  a  progressive  community,  the  plane 
of  living  should  continually  approach  the  rising  standard. 
That  is,  both  the  ideal  and  the  actuality  of  subsistence 
and  of  comfort  should  rise. 

What  actually  happens  is  this  :  From  time  to  time,  new 
opportunities  are  discovered,  as  they  were  when  the  great 
western  domains  of  the  United  States  were  opened  to 
settlement  and  cultivation  —  new  means  of  communication 
are  perfected,  and  new  inventions,  like  the  steam-engine, 
or  the  electric  dynamo,  give  mankind  a  greater  command 
over  natural  forces.  At  such  times,  wealth  rapidly  out- 
runs population.  At  other  times,  however,  the  pace  of 
industry  slackens.  The  new  developments  are  less  numer- 
ous and  of  less  importance.  Perhaps  the  machinery  of 
commerce  and  industry  itself  becomes  disorganized,  and 
the  production  of  wealth  is  checked.  At  such  times, 
population  continues  to  increase  until  there  is  a  real 
pressure  upon  those  means  of  both  comfort  and  subsist- 
ence that  constitute  the  actual  plane  of  living.     In  other 

X 


// 


3o6  The  Elemefits  of  Sociology 

words,  it  becomes  difficult  to  maintain  an  increasing  popu- 
lation at  the  established  plane  of  living,  although  there 
might  be  no  difficulty  whatever  in  obtaining  mere  food  to 
sustain  animal  life  in  a  population  much  larger. 

Two  results  follow.  One  is  that  preponderating  influ- 
ence of  youth  to  which  the  French  philosopher  and 
sociologist  Comte  rightly  attached  importance  as  a  true 
cause  of  progress.  The  other  is  an  intense  competition 
that  sharpens  the  wits  of  the  successful  and  eliminates 
the  unsuccessful.  Invention  has  its  day  again,  and  in- 
dustrial progress  begins  anew. 

Accordingly,  in  progressive  communities  the  real  strug- 
gle is  not  to  provide  mere  subsistence  for  an  increasing 
population.  It  is  not  to  produce  wealth  with  sufficient 
rapidity  to  prevent  a  lowering  of  the  plane  of  living  as  pop- 
ulation increases.  It  is  rather  to  raise  the  plane  of  living 
towards  a  higher  standard  of  life  for  a  multiplying  popula- 
tion, the  growth  of  which  is  both  contemplated  and  de- 
sired. 

This  cannot  be  accomplished  without  a  continued  activ- 
ity of   invention,   without   a  continuing   improvement    of 
industrial  organization,  and  in  all  the  arts  of  production. 
'     The    corrected    Malthusian   formula,    therefore,    is    as 
follows : 

In  any  given  state  of  industry  and  the  arts,  population 
tcftds  to  increase  faster  than  it  is  possible  to  raise  the  gen- 
eral pla?te  of  living. 

In  other  words,  when  industry  is  stationary,  the  full 
rigour  of  the  Malthusian  law  is  inevitably  felt.  Only  when 
industry  is  continually  progressive  can  there  be  a  general 
elevation  of  the  plane  of  living  coincidently  with  a  growth 
of  population.     Consequently,  in  modern  nations,  nothing 


Democracy  307 

is  of  more  fundamental  importance  than  the  maintenance 
of  those  free  forms  of  social  organization  and  of  those 
opportunities  for  individual  initiative,  invention,  and  enter- 
prise, which,  together,  constitute  both  the  factors  of  prog- 
ress and  the  elements  of  a  flexible  social  constitution. 

Demotic  Complexity. — The  growth  of  wealth  and  of 
numbers  and  the  greater  tension  of  life  increase  the  hete- 
rogeneity of  civil  populations.  They  establish  complex 
relations  between  the  different  race  elements  and  the  dif- 
ferent strata  of  population  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  division 
of  labour  in  the  social  constitution  on  the  other  hand.  The 
demotic  constitution  becomes  more  varied  ;  the  differences 
of  vitality  and  ability  become  greater ;  and  there  appears 
a  tendency  to  identify  each  race  element,  each  degree  of 
vitaUty,  and  each  grade  of  ability  with  a  definite  place 
in  the  social  organization.  Different  nations  possessing 
unequal  natural  advantages  and  enjoying  unequal  degrees 
of  constitutional  liberty  are  unequally  prosperous ;  and 
their  citizens,  free  to  seek  their  political  and  economic 
well-being  in  any  part  of  the  world,  migrate  more  readily 
than  in  any  former  age.  In  fact,  so  sensitive  have  they 
become  to  every  change  in  industrial  conditions  that  the 
increase  and  decrease  of  migration  is  as  regular  as  the 
rise  and  fall  of  prices.  Moreover,  the  thousands  of  mi- 
grating men  seek  not  only  those  parts  of  the  world  where 
their  labour  is  likely  to  be  best  rewarded,  but  they  seek 
also  those  places  in  the  industrial  organization  in  which 
the  greatest  returns  are  offered  for  the  work  that  they 
know  how  to  perform.  Here,  however,  the  economic/ 
causation  is  greatly  complicated  by  the  influence  of  that/ 
primary  consciousness  of  kind  which  turns  upon  identity! 
of  race  and  language. 


308  The  Elejnents  of  Sociology 

For  example,  if  in  the  United  States  each  incoming 
nationality  were  distributed  by  purely  economic  motives 
throughout  all  occupations  and  organizations,  its  influ- 
ence as  a  disturbing  factor  in  social  development  v^^ould 
be  slight.  It  is  because  each  nationality  shows  a  strong 
tendency  to  mass  itself  geographically,  politically,  and 
industrially  that  we  have  a  serious  immigration  problem. 
The  history  of  our  foreign  immigration  down  to  the  pres- 
ent time  shows  that  each  incoming  nationality,  instead  of 
distributing  itself  among  the  different  political  parties, 
tends  to  vote  almost  solidly  with  some  one  preferred  party. 
Instead  of  distributing  itself  among  all  industries,  it  tends 
to  mass  itself  in  one  or  two  preferred  employments.  Ger- 
mans have  practically  displaced  other  nationalities  in  the 
United  States  in  the  crafts  of  the  baker,  the  butcher,  the 
cabinet-maker,  the  cigar  maker,  the  cooper,  the  leather 
currier,  the  marble  and  stone  cutter,  the  mason,  and  the 
tailor.  In  some  of  the  great  cities,  however,  like  New 
York,  the  Bohemians  have  recently  been  displacing  the 
Germans  in  cigar  making,  while  the  Russian  and  Polish 
Jews  have  taken  practical  possession  of  the  garment 
trades. 

The  advancing  specialization  of  industrial  and  social 
functions  multiplies  the  inequalities  of  vitality  throughout 
all  distributions  of  the  population.  The  foreign  born  who, 
by  their  change  of  residence,  have  generally  bettered 
their  condition,  have  a  relatively  high  birth  rate ;  but  on 
account  of  an  imperfect  adaptation  to  new  conditions  of 
life,  the  death  rate  of  their  children  is  high.  Older  ele- 
ments in  the  population  have  a  death  rate  that  by  con- 
trast is  low,  and  a  birth  rate  that  also  is  low. 

In  the  geographical  distribution   of   population,   those 


Democracy  309 

groups  that  are  participating  in  the  highest  civilization, 
and  that  are  ambitious  to  raise  their  plane  of  living,  but 
whose  resources  are  not  expanding,  and  whose  industrial 
methods  are  not  rapidly  improving,  have  a  low  birth  rate 
and  a  low  death  rate.  Such  groups  compose,  for  example, 
the  populations  of  the  valleys  of  the  Loire  and  the  Ga- 
ronne in  France,  and  the  populations  of  the  New  Eng- 
land and  Middle  States  in  the  United  States.  Such 
groups  as  the  populations  of  Ille-et-Vilaine  and  Basses- 
Pyrenees  in  France  which  still  lead  a  relatively  simple 
life,  and  such, groups  as  the  population  of  the  northwest- 
ern commonwealths  of  the  United  States  which  are  yet 
exploiting  new  resources  by  improving  methods,  have  the 
high  vitality  that  is  expressed  by  the  coincidence  of  a 
high  birth  rate  with  a  low  death  rate. 

Differences  of  ability,  even  more  than  differences  of 
vitality,  are  increased  by  demogenic  evolution.  From  the 
three  personality  classes  are  developed  three  psychical 
ranks. 

The  first  rank,  which  is  identical  with  the  first  person- 
ality class,  —  described  in  Chapter  X,  —  consists  of  those 
individuals  that  have  more  than  average  intellectual  ability. 
The  second  rank,  which  coincides  with  the  ablest  half  of 
the  second  personality  class,  includes  all  normally  endowed 
individuals  that  have  enough  ability  to  conduct  business 
undertakings  on  a  moderate  scale,  and  thereby  to  maintain 
their  economic  independence.  The  third  rank  includes  the 
less  competent  half  of  the  second  and  the  entire  third 
personality  class. 

These  differences  of  ability  closely  correspond  to  dif- 
ferences of  social  function.  Roughly,  they  correspond 
also  to  differences  of  economic  condition.     The  directive 


3IO  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

work  of  society  in  politics,  business,  the  professions, 
science,  and  art  is  done  by  the  first  psychical  rank, 
which,  therefore,  because  directive  work  is  better  paid 
than  any  other,  includes  most  of  the  very  wealthy  mem- 
bers of  the  community.  It  includes,  however,  also  some 
of  the  poor,  and  many  of  those  who  are  in  merely  comfort- 
able circumstances.  The  middle  rank,  which  is  mentally 
and  morally  independent,  and  is  critical  rather  than  origi- 
native and  directive,  accepts  the  advice  and  leadership  of 
the  first  rank,  but  in  its  own  way,  applying  or  modifying 
with  self-confident  judgment.  This  rank  enjoys  the  re- 
wards of  thrift.  In  the  aggregate,  it  owns  a  great  part 
of  the  property  of  the  commonwealth.  The  third  rank 
does  the  closely  directed  work  of  the  community;  and 
without  some  supervision  it  would  be  almost  helpless. 
Naturally  the  third  rank  is  poor. 

The  demographic  relations  thus  far  described  are  yet 
further  combined. 

The  vitality  classes  and  the  psychical  ranks  are  not 
independent  of  one  another.  The  second  psychical  rank 
coincides  with  the  first  vitality  class.  The  first  psychical 
rank  coincides  with  the  second  vitality  class.  The  first 
psychical  rank,  however,  is  in  great  part  descended  from 
the  first  vitality  class.  The  third  vitality  class  is  in  part 
descended  from  the  first  psychical  rank. 

These  complications  are  combined  also  with  the  dis- 
tribution of  population  between  city  and  country.  That 
part  of  the  population  which  constitutes  the  first  vitality 
class  and  second  psychical  rank  is  composed  largely  of 
the  rural  population.  The  remaining  psychical  ranks 
consist  largely  of  the  city  population. 

These  groupings,  however,  are  not  fixed  or  arbitrary. 


Democracy  311 

There  are  many  exceptions,  and  individuals  from  any 
vitality  class  may  find  their  way  into  any  psychical  rank ; 
while  individuals  of  any  vitality  class  or  any  psychical 
rank  may  be  found  in  either  city  or  country. 

Origin  and  Nature  of  Democracy.  —  Gr^idations  and  dis- 
tributions of  population  that  result  in  the  evolution  of  a 
demotic  system  result  also  in  a  democratic  development 
of  the  social  mind. 

The  population  rank  that  earns  wages  by  manual  labour 
confronts  the  rank  that  directs  activity  and  accumulates 
wealth.  The  wage-earners  are  well  acquainted  with  one 
important  fact  of  history.  They  know  that  the  commer- 
cial class  once  demanded  and  obtained  a  share  in  the 
political  power  that  had  been  monopolized  by  the  well- 
born. They  have  seen  how  governments  have  been  used 
to  shape  economic  conditions  and  to  control  the  distribu- 
tion of  wealth ;  and  they  reason  that  the  labourer  must 
share  in  the  law-making  power  before  he  can  hope  to 
share  largely  in  the  results  of  economic  progress.  They 
observe  that  the  suffrage  has  been  associated  with  prop- 
erty-owning and  with  the  payment  of  direct  taxes  ;  and 
accordingly  they  demand  an  unrestricted  manhood  suf- 
frage. The  demand  is  effective  because  it  is  backed 
by  the  promise  of  votes  to  the  party  that  will  grant  the 
franchise,  just  as  the  demand  of  the  merchants  in  the 
thirteenth  century  was  effective  because  it  was  backed 
by  the  offer  of  revenue  to  the  king.  Now  one  party  and 
now  another  enlarges  the  electorate  by  extending  the 
franchise  to  a  particular  section  of  the  working  class, 
as  the  English  Tories,  for  example,  extended  it  to  the 
town  artisans,  and  the  English  Liberals  to  the  agricult- 
ural labourers,  and  as  both  of  the  great  American  parties 


312  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

have  extended  it  —  the  one  to  immigrant  labourers  and 
the  other  to  emancipated  slaves. 

Democracy  thus  established  in  the  electorate  is  soon 
followed  by  a  demand  that  governments  shall  be  developed 
into  gigantic  agencies  for  the  improvement  of  the  working 
masses.  The  state  is  called  upon  to  assume  educational 
and  sanitary  responsibilities.  At  the  same  time,  an  in- 
creasingly insistent  demand  is  heard  for  systems  of  taxa- 
tion that  will  throw  the  cost  of  public  undertakings  upon 
the  well-to-do. 

These  ideas  and  purposes  are  not  confined  to  the  wage- 
earning  classes.  Both  the  ideas  and  the  purposes  appeal 
to  many  of  the  wealthy  and  the  learned,  who  believe  that 
essential  justice  can  be  realized  only  in  a  social  democ- 
racy. Adopted  and  defended  by  men  of  culture,  demo- 
cratic ideas  gradually  transform  public  opinion  and  shape 
the  popular  ideals. 

From  the  moment  that  the  conception  of  democracy 
takes  possession  of  the  social  mind,  the  entire  further 
course  of  social  evolution  is  bound  up  with  the  develop- 
ment of  democracy,  and  with  its  success  as  a  system  of 
social  organization  and  of  government. 

False  Notions  of  Democracy.  —  One  of  the  first  obstacles 
that  the  democratic  system  has  to  overcome  is  a  false 
notion  of  its  true  nature,  which  long  lingers  in  the  minds 
of  those  members  of  the  community  who  have  belonged 
hitherto  to  privileged  classes.  In  this  false  conception, 
democracy  is  identified  with  the  absolute  rule  of  the  poor 
and  ignorant  portion  of  the  population,  or,  at  the  best, 
with  the  rule  of  that  part  of  the  population  which  is  de- 
pendent upon  opportunities  for  wage-earning  employment. 
The  government  of  society  was  for  ages  in  the  hands  of 


Democracy  313 

a  privileged  class ;  and  the  wage-earning  classes  were 
excluded  from  any  participation  in  legislation  or  admin- 
istration. Therefore,  democracy  is  often  conceived  as  a 
system  in  which  government  will  be  in  the  hands  of  the 
so-called  masses,  by  whom  the  aristocrajtic  portion  of  the 
community  will,  in  its  turn,  be  excluded  from  participa- 
tion in  public  affairs. 

It  is  indeed  possible  that  such  a  turning  of  the  tables 
might  take  place.  But  the  resulting  system  would  not  be 
democracy :  it  would  be  the  riile  of  a  class  just  as  aristoc- 
racy was  the  rule  of  a  class:  I  Democracy  is  the  participa- 
tion of  the  entire  people  in  government,  and  the  employ- 
ment of  the  powers  of  government  for  the  benefit  of  the 
entire  people.  A  true  democracy  is  that  system  which 
Abraham  Lincoln  described  as  a  **  government  of  the 
people,  by  the  people,  and  for  the  people." 

Inasmuch,  however,  as  democratic  government  is  a  deci- 
sion of  public  questions  by  a  majority  of  votes,  it  may  of 
course  practically  happen  that  the  theoretical  idea  of 
democracy  is  not  realized,  and  that  actual  rule  in  the  state 
is  exercised  by  an  ignorant  part  of  the  population,  having 
little  capacity  for  self-government  or  for  governing  the 
commonwealth.  The  historian  Lecky,  in  a  work  on 
"Democracy  and  Liberty,"  has  argued  that  in  practice 
democracy  is  necessarily  the  rule  of  ignorance,  and  that, 
in  the  long  run,  it  will  be  subversive  of  liberty.  This  he 
endeavours  to  prove  by  showing  that  in  every  modern 
country  the  ignorant  and  poor  are  a  majority,  and  that 
therefore  if  every  man  has  one  vote,  and  every  vote  has 
the  same  value,  government  is  necessarily  the  rule  of  igno- 
rance ;  and  by  showing  that  in  practice  during  the  present 
century  democracy  has  diminished  the  stability  of  govern- 


// 


314  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

ments,  has  enormously  increased  taxes  and  public  debts, 
has  confiscated  property  for  alleged  public  benefits,  has 
restricted  liberty  in  the  alleged  interests  of  the  working 
classes,  and  has  tended  to  give  the  balance  of  power  in 
society  to  the  emotional  rather  than  to  the  rational  ele- 
ments of  the  population. 

That  democracy  has  not  only  made  many  blunders,  but 
has  been  guilty  of  many  indefensible  policies,  its  strongest 
advocates  will  not  deny.  To  argue,  however,  that  it  must 
necessarily  and  permanently  be  the  rule  of  ignorance,  and 
that  it  must  therefore  necessarily  result  in  the  disintegra- 
tion of  society,  is  to  betray  a  very  inadequate  knowledge  of 
the  subject. 

Analysis  of  Democracy.  —  Democracy  is  more  than  a 
form  of  government ;  and  those  who  see  in  it  nothing 
else  have  hardly  made  a  beginning  towards  understanding 
it.  Scientifically,  democracy  is  a  form  of  government,  or 
a  form  of  the  state,  or  a  form  of  society,  or  a  combination 
of  all  three. 

As  a  form  of  government,  democracy  is  the  actual  ad- 
ministration of  political  affairs  through  universal  suffrage. 
Completely  carried  out,  democracy  as  a  form  of  govern- 
ment would  be  the  actual  decision  of  every  question  of 
legal  and  executive  detail,  no  less  than  of  every  question 
of  right  and  policy,  by  a  direct  popular  vote.  Something 
closely  approaching  this  has  been  accomplished  in  the 
New  England  town  meeting  and  in  some  of  the  cantonal 
governments  of  Switzerland.  There  has  never  been  any 
such  thing,  however,  as  a  strictly  democratic  form  of  gov- 
ernment on  a  large  scale. 

Democracy  as  a  form  of  the  state  is  popular  sovereignty. 
It  is  a  popular  distribution  of  formal  political  power.     It  is 


Democracy  315 

the  right  of  the  masses  of  the  people  to  participate  in  the 
creation  of  the  government  or  machinery  of  administration. 
It  may  act  through  representative  institutions  as  well  as 
directly. 

Democracy  as  a  form  of  society  is,  in  the  first  place,  a  *2,  ) 
democratic  organization  and  control  of  the  non-political 
forms  of  association.  In  a  perfectly  democratic  society,! 
not  only  must  the  state  be  democratic,  but  the  church,  the\ 
industrial  organization,  and  the  educational  organization 
likewise  must  be  democratic.  Democracy  as  a  form  of 
society  is,  in  the  second  place,  a  distribution  among  the 
entire  people  of  that  indefinite,  unformed,  but  actual  politi- 
cal power  which  lies  back  of  the  formal  power  that  regis- 
ters its  decisions  through  the  act  of  voting.  In  the  chapter 
on  Constituent  Societies,  a  distinction  was  made  between 
the  makers'^of  legal  authority  and  the  makers  of  moral 
authority.  (The  state  is  democratic  when  all  its  people, 
without  distinction  of  birth,  class,  or  rank,  participate  in 
the  making  of  legal  authority.  Society  is  democratic  only 
when  all  people  without  distinction  of  rank  or  class  partici- 
pate in  the  making  of  public  opinion  and  of  moral  au- 
thority. 

Character  of  Democracy. — When  these  distinctions  are 
perceived,  it  is  easily  understood  that  the  state  may  be 
democratic  while  society  is  yet  aristocratic  or  oligarchic. 
Universal  suffrage  may  give  to  every  adult  male  member 
of  the  community  the  right  to  vote ;  and  yet,  in  all  except 
political  relations,  a  majority  of  the  voters  may  be  living 
under  a  system  of  social  organization  that  is  essentially 
aristocratic  or  even  monarchical.  In  their  industrial  re- 
lations, and  in  their  schools  and  churches,  voters  may  have 
practically  no  voice  whatever  in  determining  organization 


3l6  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

or  policy.  Moreover,  although  voting  in  the  political 
organization,  they  may  be  contributing  nothing  whatever 
to  public  opinion  or  moral  authority,  because  their  intel- 
lectual development  is  too  slight  to  enable  them  to  take  an 
independent  attitude  on  any  question,  or  to  add  anything 
to  the  sum  total  of  new  thought. 

While,  therefore,  it  is  conceivable  that  ignorant  masses, 
when  given  the  right  to  vote,  may  actually  attempt  in 
their  voting  to  give  expression  to  their  own  ignorant 
notions,  there  is  evidently  no  necessity  for  thinking 
that  a  general  election  registers  a  really  popular  judg- 
ment. It  is  quite  as  likely  that  tradition,  custom,  imita- 
tion, industrial  conditions,  indefinite  modes  of  economic 
and  social  pressure,  may  conspire  to  make  a  popular 
election  nothing  more  than  an  endorsement  of  the  policy 
of  a  few  individuals. 

Therefore,  whether  democracy  is  the  rule  of  ignorance 
or  not,  is  a  question  that  depends  upon  the  sort  of  leader- 
ship to  which  the  majority  of  all  voters  in  any  common- 
wealth yield  their  allegiance.  For  unless  society  is  no  less 
democratic  than  the  state,  —  a  condition  of  things  that 
can  exist  only  when  all  socii  are  educated,  thoughtful 
men, — the  majority  do  not  independently  rule  at  all,  but 
merely  endorse  the  policy  of  their  leaders.  When  democ- 
racy is  the  rule  of  ignorance  in  fact,  as  sometimes  it  cer- 
tainly is,  the  masses  do  not  rule  through  their  ignorance, 
but  through  their  deference  to  great  humbugs  or  great 
scoundrels,  who  know  how  to  manipulate  their  followers  for 
the  success  of  personal  schemes.  When,  on  the  contrary, 
the  masses  are  led  by  patriotic  and  wise  statesmen,  as 
happens  in  serious  crises  when  the  better  instincts  of 
human  nature  are  appealed  to,  the  rule  of  the  majority 


Democracy  317 

becomes  the  rule  of  the  intelligence  and  morality  of  the 
community. 

The  Success  or  Failure  of  the  democratic  experiment  in 
the  third  stage  of  civic  evolution  therefore  turns  upon  this 
relation  of  the  many  who  imitate,  accept  guidance,  and 
yield  allegiance,  to  the  comparatively  few  who  invent,  who 
think  independently,  who  have  the  gift  of  leadership,  and 
the  ability  to  organize  their  fellow-men.  This  relationship,^ 
which  has  always  existed  in  human  society,  must,  unless 
humanity  in  the  future  becomes  totally  unlike  the  humanity 
of  the  past  and  of  to-day,  continue  to  be  one  of  the  funda- 
mental facts  of  the  social  system.  In  other  words,  we  shall 
never  get  rid  of  that  natural  aristocracy  which  is  made  up 
of  the  talented,  the  wise,  the  unselfish  and  generous,  who 
have  the  ability  and  the  wish  to  plan,  to  organize,  and  to 
lead.  If  we  are  wise  we  shall  never  wish  to  get  rid  of  it. 
The  only  aristocracy  that  the  people  should  wish  to  destroy 
is  that  which  is  constituted  by  artificial  distinctions,  by 
inherited  titles,  and  inherited  privileges.  No  conynunity> 
can  make  a  more  fatal  mistake  than  that  of  confounding  ^ 
natural  with  artificial  superiority.  Democracy  is  fatal  to 
the  latter.  Without  the  former,  democracy  itself  cannot 
hope  long  to  exist. 

In  short,  the  success  of  democracy  depends  upon  the  j 
existence  in  society  of  that  preeminent  social  class  which 
was  described  in  Chapter  XI,  and  upon  its  domination  or 
successful  leadership. 

Perils  of  Democracy.  —  There  are,  however,  grave  obsta- 
cles to  the  continuous  domination  of  the  wisest  elements 
of  the  social  class.  Some  of  these  we  have  now  to  exam- 
ine in  a  further  description  of  the  third  stage  of  civic 
evolution,  and  a  further  analysis  of  the  task  of  democracy. 


3l8  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

Costs  of  Progress. — Material  progress  is  not  an  unmixed 
good.  Progress  costs  not  only  effort,  but  also  suffering. 
Every  discovery  and  every  invention  destroys  some  busi- 
ness and  throws  wage-earners  out  of  employment.  Every 
development  of  social  organization  breaks  up  long-estab- 
lished relations.  For  the  most  part,  these  costs  of  prog- 
ress are  borne  by  individuals  who  receive  few  of  the 
benefits  purchased  by  their  sufferings,  while  the  benefi- 
ciaries of  change  themselves  rarely  suffer  the  distress  that 
is  caused  by  the  destruction  of  the  old  order.  Some  of 
those  who  are  displaced  by  social  or  industrial  progress, 
quickly  find  their  way  into  new  positions.  Others  have  no 
power  of  adaptation :  they  sink  to  a  lower  plane  of  living 
and  never  recover  from  their  misfortunes. 

Degeneration.  —  The  cost  of  progress  takes  also  the 
form  of  a  moral  and  physiological  degeneration,  which  is 
caused  by  excessive  activity  and  the  overstimulation  of 
ambition.  The  greater  the  rate  of  progress,  the  heavier 
does  this  cost  become ;  the  faster  the  march,  the  larger  is 
the  number  of  the  exhausted  who  fall  by  the  way.  Prog- 
ress, like  any  other  form  of  motion  in  the  universe,  starts 
reactions  against  itself. 

In  the  population,  degeneration  manifests  itself  in  the 
various  forms  of  suicide,  insanity,  crime,  and  vice,  which 
most  abound  in  the  highest  civilization,  where  the  tension 
of  life  is  extreme,  and  in  those  places  from  which  civili- 
zation has  ebbed  and  from  which  population  has  been 
drained,  leaving  a  discouraged  remnant  to  struggle  against 
deteriorating  conditions. 

Social  Disintegration.  —  Degeneracy  in  the  population 
is  inevitably  followed  by  degeneration  in  both  the  social 
composition  and  the  social  constitution. 


Democracy  319 

In  the  social  composition,  the  effect  is  felt  chiefly  in 
the  family.  There  is  a  lowering  of  the  moral  tone  of  the 
community  in  regard  to  the  obligations  of  family  life,  and 
a  tendency  to  view  marriage  as  a  convenience  or  a  pleas- 
ure, which  can  at  pleasure  be  dissolved.  Legal  obstacles 
to  its  dissolution  are  not  tolerated  by  a  community  of  irri- 
table, sentimental,  and  egoistic  men  and  women  who  have 
found  life  disappointing;  and  the  result  is  a  continuing 
increase  in  the  number  of  divorces. 

Degeneration  in  the  social  constitution  manifests  itself 
chiefly  in  a  disintegration  of  cities.  In  the  city  are  all  the 
startling  contrasts  of  civilization.  The  enormous  disparity 
of  wealth,  in  which  a  highly  organized  industry  has  re- 
sulted, is  here  revealed  to  every  eye.  Knowledge  and 
culture  that  are  the  perfect  fruit  of  all  human  progress 
until  now  are  brought  face  to  face  with  brutish  ignorance. 
Into  this  dangerous  combination  of  conditions  enters  the 
demoralizing  factor  of  personal  degeneration.  Many  of 
the  rich,  although  happily  not  a  majority,  forget  their 
obligations  to  their  fellow-men,  and  surrender  themselves 
to  the  pursuit  of  personal  enjoyments  and  ambitions. 
Many  of  the  poor,  although  happily  not  a  majority,  give 
ear  to  anarchism  or  seek  comfort  in  the  socialistic  dream. 
They  withdraw  themselves  as  far  as  possible  from  contact 
with  the  rich,  and  cherish  the  hope  of  organizing  the 
working  classes  or  "proletariat"  into  an  irresistible  force, 
and  of  taking  possession  of  all  the  organs  of  government. 
This  latter  form  of  social  disintegration,  if  it  proceeds  far, 
is  the  most  serious  of  all  dangers,  since  it  attempts  to 
establish  that  illegitimate  democracy,  which  consists  in 
the  absolute  rule  of  the  least  competent  part  of  the  popu- 
lation, to  the  exclusion  of  all  remaining  portions  of  the 


320  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

people.  This  has  twice  happened  in  modern  history  for 
short  intervals  of  time :  once  in  the  closing  days  of  the 
French  Revolution  ;  and  once  in  the  reign  of  the  Com- 
mune of  Paris  in   187 1. 

Emotionalism.  —  Even  if  all  these  dangers  are  held  in 
check,  there  remains  another  that  must  continually  be 
guarded  against  in  a  democratic  society.  It  is  the  danger 
of  a  subordination  of  rational  public  action  to  emotional 
impulses.  We  have  seen  that  in  every  population  men 
are  more  alike  in  emotion  and  in  impulse  than  in  intellect. 
Consequently,  it  is  only  when  the  greatest  respect  for  in- 
tellectual activity  and  for  self-control  is  maintained,  and 
when  an  efficient  social  organization  largely  destroys  fear, 
that  the  danger  of  impulsive  social  action  in  a  democracy 
is  prevented  from  becoming  threatening. 

The  Safe-guarding  of  Democracy.  —  Let  us  not  suppose, 
however,  that  these  dangers,  inherent  in  the  third  stage 
of  civic  evolution  and  characteristic  of  democracy,  are  so 
serious  as  to  destroy  our  faith  in  the  permanence  of  civili- 
zation or  of  popular  government.  Intelligent  and  brave 
men  are  not  dismayed  by  danger.  The  good  citizen  sees 
in  the  perils  that  threaten  society  only  an  occasion  for 
more  active  effort,  more  earnest  thought,  and  more  unself- 
ish devotion  to  duty.  The  third  stage  of  civic  evolution 
brings  with  it,  as  a  characteristic  product,  an  influence 
that  counteracts  the  dangers  which  have  been  described, 
and  offers  to  the  community  an  assurance  of  continued 
stability  and  progress.  That  influence  is  a  growing  ethi- 
cal spirit,  and  the  formation  of  the  highest  mode  of  like- 
mindedness,  namely,  the  ethical. 

The  Ethical  Spirit. — The  limitations  and  reactions  of 
progress  arrest  public  attention.     Sympathy  for  the  un- 


Democracy  321 

fortunate  is  quickened  by  the  spectacle  of  misery  in  the 
midst  of  splendour ;  and  the  conscience  of  society  begins 
to  demand  that  systematic  efforts  shall  be  made  to  miti- 
gate suffering  and  thus  to  minimize  the  dangers  that 
threaten  the  community.  Private  philar\thropy  vies  with 
legislation  in  attempts  to  diminish  poverty  and  crime,  and 
ultimately  in  attempts  to  improve  the  general  life  condi- 
tions of  the  masses.  Much  of  this  endeavour  is  senti- 
mental ;  and  not  a  little  of  it  is  mischievous.  Gradually, 
however,  intelligence  is  enlisted.  In  a  measure,  philan- 
thropic passion  is  brought  under  the  direction  of  reason 
and  made  more  efficient  for  good.  The  social  mind  under- 
goes a  profound  moral  experience.  It  begins  to  develop 
an  ethical  character.  It  is  this  awakening  of  the  moral 
reason  which  prevents  any  serious  undoing  of  the  work  of 
social  evolution.  It  is  the  rational-ethical  consciousness 
that  maintains  social  cohesion  in  a  progressive  democracy. 
The  Stability  of  Democracy  thus  depends,  first,  upon  the 
acceptance  by  the  many  of  guidance  from  those  whose 
superiority  is  real  because  consisting  in  intellectual  abili- 
ties and  in  moral  character,  not  in  artificial  social  distinc- 
tions or  in  pretentious  claims ;  secondly,  upon  an  unselfish 
activity  on  the  part  of  the  superior  few.  They  must  not 
only  have  the  ability  to  plan  and  guide ;  but  they  must 
also  put  forth  that  ability,  if  need  be  at  the  sacrifice  of 
their  personal  comfort  and  ambition.  As  the  patriot  is 
willing  to  lay  down  his  life  in  defence  of  his  country,  the 
good  citizen  must  be  willing  to  sacrifice  convenience  and 
business  advantage  in  the  effort  to  maintain  an  honest 
and  efficient  system  of  social  order.  He  must  freely 
give  time  and  strength  to  the  promotion  of  education, 
to  the  reform  of  social  and  industrial  abuses,  and  to  the 


322  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

betterment  of  the  conditions  under  which  the  great 
majority  of  his  fellow-men  are  compelled  to  live.  In 
fact,  this  unselfish  activity  of  individuals  who  by  nature 
are  qualified  to  plan  and  to  guide,  is  the  controlling  ele- 
ment in  the  entire  social  order  of  an  economic-ethical 
civilization.  It  is  the  fact  upon  which  the  fate  of  democ- 
racy ultimately  turns,  because,  if  the  natural  aristocracy 
among  men  is  in  fact  unselfish,  it  will  not  fail  to  hold  the 
allegiance  and  secure  the  faithful  following  of  the  many. 
^The  instincts  of  the  mass  of  mankind  are  now,  as  they 
always  have  been,  thoroughly  sound.  In  all  ages,  the 
true  patriot  has  received  the  unstinted  homage  of  his 
fellow-men  ;  and  they  have  been  wilting  to  follow  him, 
to  make  sacrifices  with  him,  even  to  lay  down  their  lives 
with  him,  just  in  the  measure  that  they  have  believed  in 
his  sincerity.  In  this  way  men  always  will  act  as  they 
always  have  acted.  If  those  who  are  qualified  to  lead 
by  their  conduct  show  that  they  are  actuated  not  by 
personal  ambition  but  by  love  of  country  and  of  mankind, 
there  will  be  no  failure  of  the  experiment  of  democracy. 

The  Duties  of  Leadership. — This,  however,  is  assum- 
ing that  true  leaders  of  the  people  bring  their  intelligence 
as  well  as  their  sincerity  of  motive  to  bear  upon  the  duties 
that  they  owe  to  society.  The  normal  function  of  leader- 
ship may  well  be  conceived,  as  it  has  been  by  Mr.  Mallock, 
in  terms  of  that  relation  which,  in  the  business  world,  is 
called  supply  and  demand. 

In  relation  to  "demand,"  men  are  far  more  alike  and 
far  more  nearly  equal  than  in  relation  to  **  supply."  For 
example,  all  men  need  clothing  and  houses ;  they  are 
alike  and  equal  in  this  respect.  It  is  only  a  small  pro- 
portion of  all  men,  however,  that  have  the  skill  to  design 


Democracy  323 

and  to  manufacture  clothing;  that  have  the  skill  to  design 
and  to  build  houses.  So  it  is  with  respect  to  other  things. 
The  preliminary  work  of  supplying  satisfactions  for  human 
needs  consists  of  invention,  planning,  and  organizing.  In 
all  its  higher  developments,  it  is  a  kind  of  work  that 
can  be  accomplished  only  by  men  of  great  and  special 
talent.  Of  all  the  millions  of  men  that  have  lived  in  the 
world,  less  than  a  hundred  have  made  important  discover- 
ies in  the  adaptation  of  steam  and  electric  power  to  the 
industrial  arts,  although  many  thousands  have  contributed 
lesser  inventions  in  matters  of  detail.  Less  than  a  hundred 
thousand  have  contributed  any  strictly  new  thought  or 
invention  to  the  vast  system  of  railroad,  steamship,  and 
telegraphic  communication  by  which  all  parts  of  the  world 
are  now  bound  together  in  commercial  and  intellectual 
intercourse.  Less  than  a  single  million  have  contributed 
any  important  thought  or  deed  to  the  perfection  of  the  sys- 
tem of  constitutional  government  and  law,  whereby  social 
order  and  individual  liberty  are  combined  and  reconciled 
in  a  successfully  working  system.  All  mankind,  then,  par- 
ticipates in  needs  which  call  for  satisfaction.  All  mankind 
participates  in  the  work  or  labour  of  creating  the  supply  of 
those  things  that  serve  as  means  of  satisfaction  ;  but  only 
a  small  part  of  mankind  participates  in  that  most  difficult 
and  fundamental  work  of  all  —  the  thinking  of  how  to 
supply,  the  invention  of  means,  and  the  organization  of  the 
various  forms  of  cooperation  by  which  the  invented  means 
are  brought  to  bear  upon  the  practical  problem. 

Thus  the  function  of  those  who  have  the  ability  to  plan 
and  to  guide  in  a  democratically  organized  society,  is  that 
of  devising  means  to  supply  the  necessities,  to  meet  the 
aspirations,   to   fulfil   the   reasonable   hopes  of   mankind. 


324  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

The  masses  are  dependent  upon  the  guidance  and  leader- 
ship of  the  few ;  but  the  few  can  guide  and  lead  only  if 
they  minister  to  the  actual  wants  and  the  legitimate 
desires  of  the  many.  The  relation  is  precisely  that  which 
was  so  clearly  expressed  generations  ago  in  the  words, 
"And  whosoever  will  be  chief  among  you,  let  him  be  your 
servant." 

The  Real  Demands  of  Democracyc  —  What,  then,  are  the 
real  and  legitimate  demands  of  the  many  ?  What  are  the 
satisfactions  that  must  continually  be  thought  about,  de- 
vised, and  secured  by  the  intelligence  and  unselfish  activity 
of  the  few  ? 

They  are  demands  for  the  satisfaction  of  certain  funda- 
mental needs,  in  respect  of  which  all  men  are  born  equal. 

In  recent  years  there  has  been  among  the  educated  a 
tendency  to  scoff  at  this  famous  phrase  from  eighteenth- 
century  thought  and  the  American  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence. In  many  respects  men  are  so  obviously  unequal 
—  in  physical  strength,  in  intelligence,  in  moral  qualities  — 
that  when  all  allowances  and  modifications  have  been 
made,  it  has  seemed  that  very  little  meaning  has  remained 
in  the  assertion  that  men  are  born  equal. 

If,  however,  we  look  a  little  more  deeply  into  the  matter, 
we  discover  that,  after  all,  there  is  still  in  these  words  a 
meaning  which  it  behooves  us  to  understand  and  to  respect. 

Wherein  All  Men  are  Equal.  —  All  men  are  born  sub- 
stantially equal,  and  throughout  life  remain  substantially 
equal  in  respect  of  all  the  following  needs  : 

I.  The  need  of  such  material  necessaries  of  existence  as 
food,  clothing,  and  shelter.  The  amount  needed  and  even 
the  quality  needed  differ  with  different  individuals ;  but 
the  poorest  and  the  weakest,  equally  with  the  richest  and 


Democracy  325 

the   strongest,  experience   the   fundamental   need  for  all 
these  things. 

2.  The  need  of  satisfaction  of  the  family  instinct ;  the 
need  of  affection,  of  the  love  of  husband  and  wife,  of  parent 
and  child.  There  are,  of  course,  individuals  who  seem 
devoid  of  this  need ;  but  in  most  cases  the  appearance  is 
not  the  reality,  and  where  it  is,  it  is  pathological. 

3.  The  need  of  opportunity  for  expansion  and  develop- 
ment of  life.  The  desire  to  satisfy  not  merely  one  appe- 
tite of  the  body  or  craving  of  the  mind,  but  by  activity  to 
satisfy  every  organ,  and  by  free  play  every  faculty,  is  the 
fundamental  ethical  motive  —  the  source  of  all  that  we  call 
conscience,  of  all  aspiration  for  enlargement  and  growth. 
This  need  is  common  to  all  mankind. 

4.  The  need  of  human  sympathy  and  companionship, 
especially  in  suffering.  After  having  shown  so  fully  that 
the  love  of  companionship  is  the  fundamental  passion  of 
society,  we  need  not  stop  here  to  prove  that  it  is  a  funda- 
mental human  need.  Perhaps  nothing  that  Abraham 
Lincoln  ever  said  so  clearly  revealed  the  trait  that  en- 
deared him  to  the  American  people,  and  at  the  same  time 
so  perfectly  demonstrated  his  wonderful  insight  into  the 
nature  of  popular  government,  as  his  remark,  in  defence  of 
the  doctrine  that  all  men  are  born  equal,  that  whatever 
disparity  of  fortune  or  of  ability  may  exist  among  human 
beings,  all  are  substantially  equal  in  their  capacity  for 
suffering,  and  in  the  certainty  that  during  the  years  of 
their  earthly  life  they  will  be  obliged  to  encounter  and 
endure  it.  In  this  equality  of  capacity  for  suffering, 
Lincoln  saw  one  of  the  strongest  bonds  that  unite  a 
democratic  people. 

5.  The  need  of  emancipation  from  fear.     Primitive  men 


326  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

have  found  alleviation  in  their  crude  religious  beliefs  and 
in  their  rude  forms  of  social  organization.  Civilized  men 
have  found  it  in  more  elaborate  and  efficient  forms  of  social 
organization,  in  nobler  forms  of  religion,  in  philosophy, 
and  in  science.  Indeed,  so  effective  in  our  own  day  have 
been  these  means  of  relief  that  many  of  us  now  fail  to 
realize  how  terribly  fear  has  oppressed  mankind  in  the 
past,  and  how  absolutely  equal  men  are  in  their  deep  need 
of  emancipation  from  its  bondage. 

In  all  these  needs,  men  are  substantially  equal.  Through- 
out time,  men  will  insist  that  wants  like  these  shall  be 
appeased ;  and  they  will  not  tolerate  any  form  of  social 
organization  or  of  government  that  fails  to  meet  this 
fundamental  demand. 

As  a  matter  of  historical  fact,  the  popular  insistence 
upon  this  truth  is,  and  has  ever  been,  the  very  essence  of 
the  democratic  movement ;  for,  in  truth,  democracy  has 
been  far  more  an  insistence  that  government  shall  be  for 
the  people  who  are  governed,  than  that  it  shall  be  by  the 
people.  Insistence  that  it  shall  be  by  the  people  has  been 
in  order  that  it  might  more  certainly  be  for  the  people. 

Accordingly,  the  social  system  that  is  thought  about, 
perfected,  maintained,  and  administered  by  those  who 
have  the  ability  to  plan  and  to  lead,  must  be  one  that 
meets  these  fundamental  demands  of  democracy.  Any 
system  of  laws  that  endangers  material  subsistence,  that 
diminishes  comfort,  that  makes  the  struggle  for  life  an 
increasingly  hard  one  for  the  masses,  that  attacks  the 
essential  features  of  family  life,  that  seems  to  curtail  the 
opportunity  for  mental  and  moral  expansion,  that  weakens 
the  bonds  of  sympathy,  or  that  attacks  the  social  organiza- 
tion  and  the  knowledge   that   emancipate  men  from  the 


Democracy  327 

curse  of  fear,  will  be  resisted  by  the  masses  of  the  people, 
and  ultimately  will  be  overthrown. 

Equality,  Fraternity,  and  Liberty. — Besides  seeing  to  it 
that  social  policy  shall  assure  the  satisfaction  of  these 
fundamental  needs  of  mankind,  the  leaders  of  thought 
and  activity  must  give  careful  attention  also  to  those  re- 
lations between  liberty  and  fraternity,  between  fraternity 
and  equality,  that  were  explained  in  the  chapter  on  the 
Efficiency  of  Social  Organization.  As  was  there  shown, 
liberty  in  any  sense,  including  that  which  democracy  im- 
plies, is  possible  only  if  there  is  in  the  population  a  good 
degree  of  mental  and  moral  homogeneity  and  of  sympathy 
—  a  fact  which  is  popularly  expressed  by  the  word 
*' fraternity."  There  must  be  brotherhood  in  a  large  and 
generous  sense,  if  free  institutions  are  to  prevail.  But,  as 
we  also  know,  there  can  be  such  brotherhood  only  if  a 
certain  approach  towards  equality  of  condition  is  secured. 
In  the  historical  evolution  of  human  society,  nothing  has 
proved  to  be  more  fatal  to  the  spirit  of  brotherhood  and 
to  the  maintenance  of  liberty  than  an  unchecked  growth 
of  inequality  in  material  conditions,  possessions,  and 
power. 

Necessary  Modes  of  Equality.  —  Some  of  the  modes  of 
equality  upon  which  fraternity  and  liberty  depend,  and 
which  therefore  must  be  sedulously  maintained  in  a 
democratic  community  are  the  following  : 

1.  Political  equality  ;  universal  and  equal  suffrage. 

2.  Equality  before  the  law ;  neither  wealth,  nor  privi- 
lege, nor  vice,  nor  ignorance,  to  control  legislation  or  to 
receive  consideration  in  the  courts. 

3.  Equality  of  opportunity  to  serve  the  public  accord- 
ing to  the  measure  of   ability  ;    men  of   equal  ability  to 


328  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

have  absolutely  equal  chances  of  appointment  to  office 
under  impartial  civil  service  rules,  irrespective  of  party 
service  or  allegiance. 

4.  Equality  of  rights  in  public  places  and  in  public 
conveyances. 

5.  Equality  of  sanitary  conditions ;  all  streets  to  be 
equally  cleaned  and  cared  for,  tenement  houses  to  be 
made  decent  and  wholesome. 

6.  Equality  of  opportunity  to  enjoy  certain  means  of 
recreation  and  culture ;  in  public  parks,  libraries,  mu- 
seums, and  galleries  of  art. 

7.  Equality  of  elementary  educational  opportunities 
through  a  well-administered  public  school  system. 

8.  Equality  of  fair  play  ;  especially  in  all  bargaining, 
between  employer  and  employ^,  and  in  the  relations  of 
workingmen  to  one  another. 

9.  Equality  of  courtesy  ;  rich  and  poor  to  be  treated 
with  equal  politeness. 

10.  Equality  of  good  will  to  all  men. 

Other  modes  of  equality  that,  in  addition  to  the  above, 
are  essential  to  fraternity,  are  those  which  assure  the 
supremacy  of  rational  over  impulsive  social  action.  They 
are,  namely  : 

1.  Equality  of  regard  for  certain  fundamental  social 
values,  especially  {a)  respect  for  law,  {b)  respect  for 
expert  knowledge. 

2.  Equality  of  sobriety  and  calmness  of  judgment,  and 
of  common  sense. 

These  modes  of  equality  can  be  approximately  estab- 
lished by  the  perfection  of  an  efficient  system  of  public 
school  education,  but  not  by  any  other  means. 

Finally,  there  must  be  maintained   also   that   mode  of 


Democracy  329 

equality  on  which  progress  depends ;  namely,  equality  of 
opportunity  for  potential  inventiveness,  greatness,  and 
leadership  to  become  actual. 

Democracy  is  Ethical  Like-Mindedness.  —  Appreciation  of 
these  truths  by  the  community  and  a  practical  application 
of  them  involve  both  intellectual  agreement  and  a  unity 
of  purpose  which,  while  containing  elements  of  sympathy, 
contain  also  the  judgments  born  of  rational  criticism  of  the 
social  problem.  Such  unity  is  a  mode  of  like-mindedness 
in  which  reason  and  conscience  predominate.  " 

Democracy,  then,  in  terms  of  sociological  theory,  is  the 
outworking  or  expression  of  ethical  like-mindedness. 

Contributions  to  Well-being.  —  We  have  now  in  con- 
cluding this  chapter  only  to  mention  the  contributions 
made  to  social  organization  and  human  welfare  by  the 
third  stage  of  civic  evolution.  These  are,  namely : 
material  wealth,  the  growth  of  population,  the  genesis  and 
development  of  the  ethical  spirit,  and  the  elaboration  of 
democracy  in  that  large  and  legitimate  sense  of  the  word 
which  has  here  been  explained. 

PARALLEL  STUDY 

Read  Spencer's  "Principles  of  Sociology,"  Volume  II,  Part  V, 
Chapter  XVIII,  and  Volume  III,  Part  VIII;  Spyer's  '-The  Labour 
Question  "  ;  Stimson's  "  Hand  Book  to  the  Labour  Law  of  the  United 
States";  Wells's  "Recent  Economic  Changes";  Brownell's  "French 
Traits,"  Chapter  I ;  Lecky's  "  Democracy  and  Liberty,"  Chapters  I  and 
III;  Rose's  "The  Rise  of  Democracy";  Matthew  Arnold's  essay  on 
"Equality";  and  James  Russell  Lowell's  essay  on  "Democracy." 


^CHAPTER   XXV 


The  Theory  of  Society 


n 


Physical  and  Psychical  Processes.  —  The  scientific  de- 
scription of  any  subject  is  incomplete  until  relations  are 
perceived  between  laws  that  have  been  discovered  in  the 
group  of  facts  studied,  and  wider  laws  that  prevail  through- 
fout  the  universe. 

For  example,  the  subject  Biology  is  not  completely  ex- 
plained until  the  laws  of  growth  and  reproduction,  of 
waste  and  repair,  which  characterize  the  group  of  facts 
called  Biology,  are  studied  in  relation  to  the  wider  laws  of 
chemical  action,  of  heat,  light,  electricity,  and  other  mani- 
festations of  physical  energy. 

In  other  words,  the  complete  explanation  of  any  subject 
must  include  an  attempt  to  show  that  laws  inductively  dis- 
covered are  deductively  inferable  from  wider  principles  of 
cosmic  phenomena.  ' 

In  the  study  of  society,  we  have  all  along  been  obliged 
to  look  at  the  facts  under  consideration  from  two  points 
of  view.  The  facts  have  displayed  themselves  to  our 
mental  vision,  sometimes  in  the  guise  of  physical,  and 
sometimes  in  the  guise  of  mental,  phenomena.  This  has 
inevitably  happened  because  the  individual  man  is  a  bun- 
dle of  physical  and  mental  facts,  combined  in  ways  that 
we  can  partly,  but  not  wholly,  understand.  His  bodily 
form  and  activities  are  as  strictly  physical  facts  as  are  the 
forms  and  activities  of  inorganic  things ;  while  his  thoughts, 

330 


The  Theory  of  Society  331 

emotions,  and  choices  are  facts  of  an  entirely  different 
order.  Nevertheless,  as  we  have  from  time  to  time  ob- 
served, it  is  possible  to  study  some  of  the  relations  be- 
tween thoughts,  emotions,  and  choices  on  the  one  hand, 
and  physical  energy  on  the  other  hand,  because,  through 
the  mechanism  of  the  nervous  system,  mental  processes 
are  connected  in  perfectly  definite  ways  with  physical 
facts. 

Therefore,  no  study  of   the  individual   man  would   be  A 
complete  which  did   not   include  a  double   interpretation    ' 
of  his  activity,  one  in  terms  of  laws  of  physical  energy, 
the  other  in  terms  of  laws  of  mental  processes.     In  Hke 
manner,  no  account  of  society  is  complete  which  does  not 
include  a  similar  double  interpretation. 

This  does  not  mean  that  the  sociologist,  or  the  anthro- 
pologist, or  the  psychologist,  is  committed  to  a  dualistic 
philosophy  of  the  universe.  He  may  be  convinced  that, 
in  the  last  analysis  which  philosophy  is  competent  to 
make,  all  mental  facts  can  be  explained  in  terms  of  phys- 
ics —  and  he  therefore  may  be  a  monistic  materialist ; 
or  he  may  be  convinced  that  all  physical  facts  must  ulti- 
mately be  explained  in  terms  of  thought  —  and  he  m^ 
therefore  be  an  idealist.  It  is  not,  however,  any  part  of 
the  business  of  science  to  deal  with  these  ultimate  prob- 
lems of  philosophy.  Science  stops  short  at  the  point 
where  the  possibility  of  verification  ends  and  knowledge 
passes  into  speculation.  Verification  is  a  confirmation  by 
the  senses  of  conclusions  reached  by  reasoning.  \^e% 
for  example,  the  astronomer,  through  the  reasoning  pro- 
cesses of  mathematical  thought,  concludes  that  an  eclipse 
of  the  sun  will  occur  in  a  certain  latitude  and  longitude 
on  a  particular  day,  and  that  it  will  begin  at  a  second 


332  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

which  also  he  predicts,  his  conclusion  is  verified  if  the 
eclipse  is  actually  seen  at  that  place  and  time. 

Science  is  unable  to  carry  the  processes  of  verification 
into  the  final  problems  of  philosophy.  It  cannot,  by  any 
independent  process  of  checking  or  confirming,  prove  the 
reasoned-out  conclusion  of  the  philosopher  that  the  world 
is  monistic.  So  far  as  verification  goes,  the  facts  of  life 
will  always  appear  in  the  two  categories,  physical  and 
mental;  and  whatever  the  philosopher  may  believe,  the 
scientific  man  can  never  prove  that  the  two  categories  are 
reducible  to  one.  Philosophy  may  be  monistic ;  science, 
in  its  account  of  man,  will  forever  be  dualistic. 

The  scientific  account  then,  of  any  subject  in  which 
man  is  a  factor,  must  always  include  two  parallel  interpre- 
tations :  one  physical,  the  other  psychological. 

Physical  Causation  and  Laws.  —  Accordingly,  let  us  now 
look  for  a  moment  at  the  ultimate  explanation  of  facts  of 
human  society  in  so  far  as  they  are  physical.  All  move- 
ments of  population,  such  as  birth  rates,  migrations,  and 
groupings  are,  of  course,  physical  facts ;  and  all  the  labour 
performed  in  society  is  also,  of  course,  a  group  of  physical 
facts.  What,  then,  is-  tl^e  filial  explanation,  within  the 
limits  of  verifiable  science,  of  the  physical  phenomena  of 
human  society } 

To  answer  this  question,  we  must  call  to  mind  the  ele- 
mentary physical  truth  that  matter  and  energy  arc  inde- 
structible, and  remember  certain  important  consequences 
of  it ;  namely,  that  because  matter  and  energy  are  inde- 
structible, there  is,  throughout  the  universe,  a  tendency 
towards  the  establishment  of  a  balance  or  equilibrium  of 
forces  ;  that  all  motion  is  in  the  line  of  least  resistance ; 
and  that  all  motion  is  rhythmical  in  form. 


The  Theory  of  Society  333 

Every  mass  of  matter  contains  more  or  less  energy. 
Heat,  light,  and  electricity  no  less  than  gravitation  and  the 
motion  of  a  body  through  space  are  modes  of  energy. 
When,  therefore,  there  is  any  degree  of  heat,  of  electricity, 
or  of  magnetism,  or  any  possibility  of  chemical  change  in 
a  mass  of  matter,  that  matter  is  energetic  —  it  contains 
energy. 

All  energy  is  a  mode  of  motion.  Heat,  for  example,  is  / 
the  motion  of  the  minute  particles  or  molecules  of  matter. 
Molecular  motion  can  be  converted  into  motion  of  the 
mass;  as,  for  example,  when  the  heat  contained  in  steam 
is  converted  into  the  motion  of  the  locomotive.  Motion  of 
the  mass,  in  turn,  can  be  converted  into  molecular  motion ; 
as,  for  example,  when  the  application  of  brakes  to  the 
wheels  of  a  moving  train  makes  both  wheels  and  brakes 
hot. 

Practically,  it  never  happens  that  the  energy  contained 
in  any  given  mass  of  matter  is  equal  in  amount  or  similar 
in  form  to  that  contained  in  surrounding  objects.  Con- 
sequently, there  is  a  continual  interchange  of  energy  be- 
tween object  and  object,  and  between  groups  of  objects 
and  other  groups.  The  tendency  is  towards  a  condition 
of  things  in  which  the  energies  of  adjacent  bodies  are 
equal  and  in  balance. 

In  this  change  of  energy  from  body  to  body  and  from 
mode  to  mode,  motion  follows  the  line  of  least  resistance. 

The   Source  of  Social  Energy.  —  M any _  activities   of   a 
social  population  find  their  explanation  in  termsofTEese^ 
physical  principles.     The" energy  of  a  population  is  never 
more  than  momentarily  equal  to  the    active    and   latent 
energies  of  the  world  about  it.     Consequently,  there  is  a  ' 
continual  interchange  of   matter  and  energy  between   a 


334  '^^^^  Elements  of  Sociology 

population  and  its  environment.     The  inorganic  forces  of 
the  land  and  climate  are  converted  into  organic  and  social 
energies ;  social  energies  again  are  reconverted  into  physi- 
\  enforces. 

All  the  energy  expended  in  the  growth  and  activity  of 
a  population  is  thus  derived  from  the  physical  world ;  and 
the  activity  that  any  population  is  capable  of  manifesting, 
the  degree  of  advancement  in  material  and  moral  well- 
being  that  it  is  capable  of  attaining,  in  the  last  resort 
depends  upon  the  interaction  of  inherited  muscular  and 
nervous  energies  of  the  race  with  the  physical  resources 
of  the  region  that  it  occupies. 

Density  of  population  depends  on  the  quantity  of  food 
that  can  be  produced  either  directly  by  agriculture,  or  in- 
directly through  the  exchange  of  manufactured  products, 
themselves  produced  from  the  raw  materials  of  the  en- 
vironment. Other  things  being  equal,  the  activity  and 
progress  of  society  in  large  measure  depend  upon  the 
-  density  of  the  population.  A  sparse  population,  scattered 
over  a  poor  soil,  can  carry  on  production  only  by  primitive 
methods  and  on  a  small  scale.  It  can  have  only  the  most 
rudimentary  division  of  labour.  It  cannot  have  manufact- 
uring industries  or  good  roads,  or  a  highly  developed 
intelligence. 

A  highly  developed  political  life,  too,  is  found  only 
where  population  is  compact.  Civil  liberty,  as  we  have 
seen,  means  discussion ;  and  discussion  is  dependent  on 
the  frequent  meeting  of  considerable  bodies  of  men  who 
have  varied  interests  and  who  look  at  life  from  different 
points  of  view.  Education,  religion,  art,  science,  and  lit- 
erature, also,  are  all  dependent  upon  a  certain  density  of 
population.  f** 


The   Theory  of  Society  335 

Population  being  given,  and  other  things  remaining  the 
same,  social  activity  varies  with  the  harvests.  Certain 
social  phenomena  follow  good  and  bad  times  with  aston- 
ishing regularity.  Among  these  are  the  marriage  rate, 
the  birth  rate,  and  the  death  rate.  'J'he  harvests  them-  . 
selves  depend  on  the  amount  of  physical  energy  utilized 
by  society  in  agricultural  operations. 

Once  more,  population  and  harvests  remaining  the 
same,  social  activity  depends  upon  the  amount  of  physi- 
cal energy  utilized  otherwise  than  in  producing  food.  No 
one  can  measure,  or  even  estimate,  how  enormously  polit- 
ical, religious,  and  educational  activities  have  been  multi- 
plied by  steam  and  electricity. 

The  Line  of  Least  Resistance.  —  Like  all  other  modes 
of  motion  in  the  universe,  social  activity  follows  the  line  of 
least  resistance.  Population  is  relatively  dense  in  warm 
climates.  Colonization  follows  coast  lines  and  river  val- 
leys. Expanding  states  respect  the  territory  of  strong 
rivals,  and  encroach  upon  the  domain  of  the  weak. 
Aggregations  of  men  are  formed  where  the  economic 
opportunities  are  greatest ;  and  there  they  remain  until 
diminishing  returns  drive  them 'on  to  yet  newer  openings. 
The  concentration  of  population  in  cities  is  but  another 
exemplification  of  the  same  law;  for  the  cities,  on  the 
whole,  afford  the  best  opportunities  for  employment. 

It  is  the  line  of  least  resistance  that  determines  also 
occupations,  the  course  of  exchanges,  the  lines  of  com- 
munication, the  movements  of  labour  and  capital,  legislative 
and  administrative  policy,  and  the  direction  of  religious, 
scientific,  and  educational  movements. 

RhytJim.  —  Li  social  as  in  other  activities  action  and  ■ 
reaction  are  necessarily  equal ;  and  all  motion,  therefore,  ' 


33^  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

is  necessarily  rhythmical.  Harvests  and  food  supplies 
are  alternately  abundant  and  meagre.  Exchanges  in  fairs 
and  markets  are  periodic.  The  balance  of  international 
trade  is  ever  changing.  Industrial  depressions  alternate 
with  periods  of  industrial  prosperity.  The  tide  of  immi- 
gration rises  and  falls.  War  and  peace,  conservatism  and 
liberalism,  alternate.  Religion,  morals,  philosophy,  sci- 
ence, literature,  art,  and  fashion  are  all  subject  to  the| 
law  of  rhythm. 

Evolution.  —  In  further  explanation  of  the  physical  as- 
pects of  society,  it  is  necessary  to  explain  the  meaning  of 
the  word  "evolution  "  in  its  physical  sense. 

Whenever  the  internal  or  molecular  motion  of  any  mass 
of  matter  is  diminished  through  communication  to  sur- 
rounding space  or  to  other  bodies,  as,  for  instance,  when 
a  heated  mass  of  iron  is  left  to  cool,  the  particles  of  the 
body  draw  more  closely  together.  Whenever  molecular 
motion  is  absorbed  from  surrounding  space,  as  when  the 
iron  is  heated  again,  the  particles  separate  more  widely. 
In  the  one  case,  the  mass  contracts,  and  in  the  other  it 
expands. 

From  time  to  time  in  this  book  we  have  used  the  word 
J  "integration."  In  the  physical  sense,  all  integration  is  a 
drawing  together  of  masses  or  particles  of  matter  into  a 
more  compact  whole.  All  drawing  together  of  masses  or 
particles  of  matter  is  integration.  Furthermore,  integra- 
tion never  takes  place  except  through  a  loss  of  contained 
motion ;  and  contained  motion  never  is  lost  without  caus- 
ing integration. 
t  Now  this  process  of  integration  is  the  first  step  in  what 
is  called  "evolution."  Whenever  an  object  or  mass  of 
matter  is  so  situated  that  it  parts  with  some  of  its  energy, 


The  Theory  of  Society  337 

as  happens,  for  example,  when  a  hot  substance  is  placed  in 
contact  with  a  cold  one,  and  loses  heat,  integration  and 
the  process  of  evolution  begin. 

Social  ^integration.  —  In  the  redistributions  of  matter 
and  motion  between  society  and  its  eavironment,  either 
there  is  a  greater  increase  of  mass  than  of  motion  in  the 
population,  and  the  change  is  on  the  whole  one  of  social 
integration,  or  there  is  a  greater  loss  of  matter  than  of 
energy,  and  the  change  is  on  the  whole  one  of  social  disin- 
tegration. Either  population  encroaches  on  the  environ- 
ment, or  the  environment  encroaches  on  the  population. 

A  tendency  towards  a  dispersion  of  population  exists 
when,  concurrently  with  a  multiplication  of  numbers  and 
an  increase  of  individual  energy,  industry  fails  to  secure 
increasing  returns. 

Usually  this  tendency  does  not  become  powerful  enough 
to  overcome  inertia  until  the  group  is  large.  Until  then, 
therefore,  the  group  holds  together,  and  is  subject  to  any 
influences  that  tend  to  establish  further  integration. 

Social  Differentiation.  —  The  second  step  in  evolution 
is  called  differentiation.  It  is  a  process  in  which  different 
parts  of  the  integrating  mass  become  unlike. 

Since  the  units  of  matter  in  the  integrating  mass  are  in 
different  positions,  they  cannot  be  equally  affected  by  the 
escaping  motion.  For  example,  in  the  mass  of  cooling 
iron,  the  exterior  cools  more  rapidly  than  the  interior; 
and  if  the  mass  is  large,  it  happens  that  at  some  stage  in 
the  process  of  cooling  the  exterior  becomes  a  solid  crust, 
while  the  interior  is  still  molten.  Further  changes,  due  to 
unequal  contraction,  may  appear  in  the  form  of  cracks  or 
breaks ;  and  these  may  be  of  the  most  unequal  and  unlike 
character  in  different  parts  of  the  mass.     Again,  unlike 


33^  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

exposure  to  like  forces,  or  like  exposure  to  unlike  forces, 
must  change  the  character  and  the  arrangements  of  the 
units.  If  a  stream  of  water  is  permitted  to  play  upon  one 
part  of  the  molten  iron,  and  a  stream  of  oil  upon  another 
part,  the  two  parts  in  cooling  assume  unlike  characteristics 
of  texture  and  strength. 

These  facts  of  differentiation  appear  in  society  concur- 
rently with  every  increase  and  concentration  of  population. 
This  was  shown  in  our  account  of  the  beginnings  of  civili- 
zation, where,  as  a  result  of  the  integration  by  conquest  of 
different  race  elements,  one  portion  was  made  a  subject 
industrial  class.  It  was  further  shown  in  the  account  of 
the  rise  of  cities  which,  rapidly  growing  by  the  influx  of 
elements  from  many  different  quarters,  soon  became  or- 
ganized by  the  appearance  of  different  occupations  and 
professions,  beginning  with  the  rise  of  an  artisan  class. 
It  was  yet  further  shown  in  an  account  of  the  enormous 
complication  of  society  in  the  third  stage  of  demogenic 
evolution  as  a  result  of  the  increase  of  population. 

Social  Segregation.  —  A  third  stage  in  evolution  is 
known  as  segregation. 

When  different  kinds  and  arrangements  of  units  have 
been  produced,  like  units  that  are  exposed  to  the  same 
or  like  forces  are  affected  in  like  ways.  Their  similarity 
becomes  more  marked,  and  they  are  drawn  together. 

In  the  social  population,  the  external  conditions  of 
climate  and  food  group  like  natures  together.  Racial 
likenesses  bring  together  men  of  like  mental  and  moral 
qualities,  and  so  constitute  the  basis  of  nationality ;  and 
like  national  types,  when  they  have  been  separated,  tend 
to  reunite.  Men  of  like  qualities  are  brought  together 
also  by  occupations.     There  is  a  segregation  of  politicians, 


The   Theory  of  Society  339 

priests,  professional  men,  literary  men,  actors  and  artists, 
mechanics  and  labourers.  Various  sub-groupings  result  in 
the  formation  of  political  parties,  religious  sects,  and  social 
cliques. 

This  law  is  strikingly  exemplified  in  tjie  distribution  of 
immigrants.  Germans  spread  westward  from  New  York 
and  Pennsylvania  to  Illinois  and  Iowa.  Four-fifths  of  the 
whole  German  immigration  is  found  in  the  northern  cen- 
tral division  of  the  United  States.  The  Irish  remain  in 
the  East  along  the  coast  from  New  York  to  Maine.  The 
Swedes  and  Norwegians  seek  homes  in  Minnesota,  Wis- 
consin, and  Illinois  ;  while  the  great  stream  of  Italian  immi- 
gration sets  steadily  southward  to  the  Argentine  Republic 
which  apparently  is  destined  to  be  as  distinctly  an  Ameri- 
can Italy  as  New  England  has  been  an  American  Britain. 

Co7npoimd  EvohUioii.  —  A  fourth  and  final  stage  in  the 
process  of  evolution  is  an  increase  of  definiteness  and  of 
coherence. 

It  is  evident  that  so  long  as  integration  continues,  the 
internal  energy  of  the  mass  has  not  wholly  disappeared. 
Furthermore,  in  no  aggregation  is  the  dissipation  of  motion 
and  the  integration  of  matter  wholly  unaccompanied  by  a 
counter  process.  Some  matter  is  lost  from  time  to  time, 
and  some  energy  is  absorbed.  This  is  a  conspicuous 
phase  of  evolution  in  organic  bodies.  When  evolution  is 
thus  complicated  by  an  absorption  of  energy,  it  is  called 
compound  evolution. 

It  is  compound  inasmuch  as  the  internal  motion  causes 
further  complications  of  the  evolutionary  process.  In  con- 
sequence of  the  new  arrangements  of  matter  that  are 
occurring,  the  internal  motion  itself  undergoes  a  redistribu- 
tion within  the  mass.     Thus,  there  is  a  further  multiplica- 


340  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

tion  of  effects ;  there  are  new  differentiations  and  new 
segregations ;  and  there  is  an  increasing  definiteness  of 
both  differentiation  and  segregation. 
I  In  the  social  population,  more  than  in  any  other  mass 
of  matter,  is  yotion  simultaneously  lQSt__and  absorbed. 
Therefore,  a  social  population  is  more  mobile  ancfmore 
plastic  than  any  other  aggregate ;  and  secondary  redis- 
tributions of  matter  and  motion  are  more  frequent  and 
more  complicated  in  society  than  elsewhere.  Social  evo- 
\  lution  is  in  the  highest  degree  compound. 

A  high  degree  of  evolution  can  be  attained  by  society 
only  if  the  motion  lost  is  but  slightly  in  excess  of  the  mo- 
tion gained,  so  that  the  evolutionary  process  goes  on  slowly, 
allowing  abundant  time  for  those  small  internal  secondary 
changes  that  have  just  been  mentioned.  Rapid  growth 
and  quickly  accomplished  reforms  are  necessarily  unsound, 
incomplete,  and  disappointing. 

Psychical  Causation  and  Laws.  —  The  psychological  laws 
of  social  activity,  no  less  than  the  physical  laws,  are  de- 
ducible  from  a  general  principle. 

The  ultimate  psychological  principle  is  closely  analogous 
to  the  physical  principle  of  the  indestructibility  of  matter 
and  motion.  Minor  and  derivative  psychological  princi- 
ples are  closely  analogous  to  the  physical  principles,  that 
motion  is  in  the  line  of  least  resistance  and  that  the  redis- 
^^y    tributions  of  matter  result  in  a  process  of  evolution. 

The  Ultimate  Psychological  Motive  is  the  persistent 
desire  of  consciousness  to  be  clear  and  painless  and,  if 
i  j)0ssible,  pleasurable.  Consciousness  itself  may  cease. 
We  cannot  say  that,  like  matter,  it  is  indestructible.  It 
may  even  desire  to  cease.  But  so  long  as  it  exists,  and 
contemplates  existence,  its  desire  to  be  clear  and  painless 


TJie   Theory  of  Society  341 

or  positively  pleasurable  is  inextinguishable.  Conscious- 
ness is  intolerant  of  obscurity,  perplexity,  obstruction,  and 
suffering. 

The  Laiv  of  Least  Ejfort.  —  It  is  an  immediate  corollary 
of  this  fundamental  truth  that  consciousness  endeavours  to 
attain  painless  clearness  or  positive  pleasure  with  least 
difficulty,  v^rhich  is  a  mode  of  either  perplexity  or  pain. 

This  principle  may  be  called  the  law  of  least  effort; 
and  it  is  perfectly  analogous  to  the  physical  law  of  motion 
in  the  line  of  least  resistance.  In  whatever  processes  of 
thought  or  endeavour  we  may  be  engaged,  we  strive  to 
attain  a  maximum  of  clearness  or  of  pleasure  in  some 
form,  with  a  minimum  of  exertion  or  of  pain.  This  is 
sometimes  called  the  attempt  to  secure  a  maximum  of 
pleasure  and  a  minimum  of  pain.  It  is  doubtful  if  such  is 
the  best  way  to  express  the  general  law.  In  the  more 
complicated  processes  of  reasoning,  our  attention  is  occu- 
pied with  neither  pleasure  nor  pain.  None  the  less,  we 
endeavour  to  avoid  all  unnecessary  complications  in  the 
reasoning  process,  and  to  secure  our  results  as  simply  and 
as  straightforwardly  as  possible.  Therefore,  it  is  better  to 
include  all  the  modes  of  consciousness  —  sensation,  percep- 
tion, attention,  memory,  reasoning,  pain,  and  pleasure  —  in 
our  general  formula,  and  to  state  the  law  of  consciousness 
in  the  proposition  that  consciousness  endeavours  to  attain 
painless  clearness,  or  positive  pleasure,  with  a  minimiun  of 
difficulty. 

In  terms  of  this  law,  we  find  our  ultimate  explanation 
of  that  fundamental  fact  of  human  society  which  we  have 
called  the  consciousness  of  kind. 

Ejective  Interpretation.  —  All  knowledge  proceeds  through 
a  comparison  of  the  unknown  with  the  known.     This  is 


342  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

simply  one  form  of  the  method  of  least  effort.  If,  in  the 
object  hitherto  unknown,  we  can  find  something  that 
recalls  a  state  of  consciousness  heretofore  experienced, 
we  have  to  that  extent  diminished  the  difficulties  of  our 
observation  or  investigation.  In  the  opening  chapter  of 
this  book,  it  was  shown  that  classification  enables  us  to 
extend  our  knowledge  to  a  degree  that  would  be  utterly 
impossible  if  we  had  no  other  means  of  dealing  with  new 
experiences  but  that  of  carrying  every  detail  consciously 
in  mind.  Classification,  then,  is  one  of  the  methods  that 
y    follow  from  the  law  of  least  effort. 

And  this  is  the  procedure  that  is  followed  when  individ- 
uals interpret  one  another  in  terms  of  themselves.  They 
apply  the  method  of  least  effort  in  its  form  of  classification 
to  the  problem  of  determining  their  individual  relations  to 
their  fellow-men.  Discovering  that  some  of  their  acquaint- 
ances in  certain  particulars  are  very  like  themselves ;  that 
other  individuals  are  much  less  like  themselves  ;  that  yet 
others  are  but  little  like  themselves,  save  in  those  human 
qualities  that  mark  the  entire  species  of  mankind,  they 
quickly  form  mental  classes  that  are  based  upon  these 
degrees  of  resemblance.  This  interpretation  of  others  in 
terms  of  one's  self  may  be  called  ejective  interpretation. 
The  word  "eject"  means  a  mental  image  of  another  which 
is  derived  largely  from  one's  experiences  of  one's  self. 
When  the  child,  observing  an  object  that  walks,  talks, 
and  smiles  as  he  himself  does,  interprets  that  object  in 
terms  of  himself,  and  concludes  that  it  is  a  human  being 
like  himself,  the  mental  process  which  has  resulted  in  this 
conclusion  is  ejective.  The  child  has  mentally  thrown  him- 
self into  the  perceived  object,  and  he  understands  it  because 
he  has  done  so. 


The  Theory  of  Society  343 

Thus,  all  interpretation  of  our  fellow-beings  is  ejective. 
It  proceeds  through  a  comparison  of  themselves  and  our- 
selves in  which  the  various  points  of  resemblance  and  of 
difference  are  observed  and  classified.  Ejective  interpre- 
tation is  the  intellectual  element  in  the  consciousness  of 
kind,  which,  therefore,  is  so  far  simply  a  consequence  of 
the  law  that  mental  activity  follows  the  line  of  least  effort. 

The  Limits  of  Sympathy.  —  But  the  same  is  true  also  of 
the  sympathetic  and  emotional  elements  of  the  conscious- 
ness of  kind.  Sympathy  and  affection  go  out  to  those  who 
most  resemble  ourselves,  simply  because  such  is  the  direc- 
tion of  least  difficulty.  This  was  shown  in  some  detail  in 
the  account  of  sympathy  in  Chapter  VI.  Sympathy  and 
affection,  as  there  described,  result  from  the  habits  of 
like  response  to  the  same  stimuli.  Therefore,  there  is 
much  material  for  the  genesis  of  sympathy  between  re- 
sembling individuals,  and  comparatively  little  between 
greatly  differing  individuals.  To  perfectly  satisfy  our- 
selves that  the  interpretation  of  sympathy  in  terms  of  the 
law  of  least  effort  is  the  true  one,  we  have  only  to  ask  our- 
selves what  happens  when  we  have  the  feeling  that  we 
ought  to  sympathize  with  some  person  or  class  of  persons, 
as  distinguished  from  a  spontaneous  outgoing  of  sympathy 
towards  them  Any  student  who  will  carefully  think  over 
this  problem,  will  have  no  difficulty  in  convincing  himself 
that  sympathy  and  affection  are  simply  cases  of  mental 
activity  in  the  direction  of  least  effort. 

The  Diversifying  of  Satisfactions.  —  Once  more,  it  is 
equally  true  that  the  law  of  least  effort  affords  us  our  only 
interpretation  of  the  desire  for  recognition. 

The  source  of  all  our  satisfactions  ultimately  is  to  be 
found  in  the  external  world.     We  first  obtain  satisfaction 


344  '^^^  Elements  of  Sociology 

of  our  bodily  desires  in  forms  of  food  and  of  material  com- 
fort. Soon,  however,  we  discover  a  principle  known  to 
economists,  and  occasionally  referred  to  in  this  volume, 
which  may  be  called  the  law  of  incremental  utility.  Addi- 
tional quantities  of  the  same  means  of  satisfaction  fail  to 
afford  us  proportionately  large  returns  of  pleasure ;  or,  in 
other  words,  beyond  a  certain  point,  equal  degrees  of  effort 
expended  in  the  same  direction  fail  to  yield  corresponding 
returns  of  satisfaction.  By  changing  the  means  of  satis- 
faction, we  for  a  time  obtain  increasing  returns  with  dimin- 
ished effort.  Therefore,  it  is  a  deduction  from  the  law  of 
least  effort  that  we  seek  to  vary  our  means  of  satisfaction. 

In  this  search,  however,  we  are  still  governed  by  the  law 
of  least  effort.  We  seek  our  means  of  satisfaction  first 
among  objects  and  activities  with  which  we  are  already 
familiar,  or  that  are  most  like  things  with  which  we  are 
familiar. 

Causes  and  Limits  of  the  Desire  for  Recognition. —  Among 
the  very  earliest  pleasures  of  life  are  those  that  we  derive 
from  the  ministering  attentions  of  mother  and  other  family 
relatives  and  friends.  It  is  they  who  provide  us  with  our 
first  satisfactions  of  every  kind  ;  and  it  is  their  attentions 
that,  by  continued  association  with  bodily  comfort  and  by 
direct  stimulation  of  all  our  senses,  give  us  increasing 
pleasure.  Therefore,  we  learn  to  take  delight  in  recogni- 
tion and  attention  by  the  fellow-beings  that  are  nearest 
to  us. 

Then,  according  to  the  law  that  we  seek  to  increase 
satisfaction  by  searching  for  new  means  or  new  sources 
of  pleasure  among  objects  that  most  closely  resemble 
those  with  which  we  are  already  'familiar,  we  begin  to 
look  for  recognition,  attention,  and  sympathy  from  those 


The  Theory  of  Society  345 

fellow-beings  who  most  closely  resemble  our  immediate 
family  friends  and  ourselves.  Little  by  little  the  circle 
is  widened,  until  we  have  formed  the  habit  of  expecting 
recognition  and  sympathy  from  all  human  beings,  in  a 
gradation  that  corresponds  to  their  degrees  of  resemblance 
to  ourselves. 

Thus,  in  its  entirety,  the  consciousness  of  kind  is  seen 
to  be  a  consequence  of  the  persistence  of  mental  activity 
in  the  lines  of  least  difficulty. 

The  Precedence  of  Immediate  Pleasure.  —  In  the  same 
law  lies  the  explanation  of  the  social  principle  that  society 
is  primarily  created  by  the  immediate  pleasurableness  of 
companionship,  and  that  the  beneficial  reactions  of  asso- 
ciation, in  mutual  protection  and  increasing  wealth,  are 
later  recognized.  It  is  obvious  that  immediate  pleasure 
appeals  to  the  mind  more  directly  than  considerations  of 
remoter  utility."  In  choosing  immediate  pleasure  in  pref- 
erence to  remoter  utility,  the  mind  simply  follows  the  law 
of  activity  in  the  direction  of  least  effort.  Only  when 
immediate  pleasure  begins  to  be  a  diminishing  return,  does 
the  mind  reach  out  by  a  new  effort  to  discover  and  to 
obtain  the  possible  remoter  utilities. 

Causes  of  Impulsive  and  Formal  Cofidicct.  —  We  pass  now 
to  a  consideration  of  those  laws  of  sympathetic  and  im- 
pulsive social  action,  of  tradition  and  authority,  and  of 
rational  social  choice  that  were  formulated  in  the  chapters 
on  The  Social  Mind. 

Primary  social  action  is  sympathetic  and  impulsive,  and 
the  social  action  in  which  a  majority  of  individuals  in  the 
population  are  competent  pd  participate  is  sympathetic 
and  impulsive  for  the  perfectly  obvious  reason  that  sym- 
pathy and  impulse  are  less  difficult  than  rational  self-con- 


f^ 


346  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

trol.  In  like  manner,  conformity  to  a  course  of  conduct 
once  entered  upon,  uncritical  obedience  of  authority,  un- 
critical acceptance  of  belief,  are  all  far  easier  than  inde- 
pendent judgment.  Consequently,  formal  like-mindedness 
and  conformity  to  an  established  order  are  more  general 
than  rational  social  choice. 

Causes  of  Rational  Conduct.  —  How,  then,  can  it  possibly 
happen  that  rational  social  choice  can  occur  at  all }  The 
answer  is,  because,  in  accordance  with  the  law  of  least 
effort,  we  are  compelled  from  time  to  time  to  vary  our 
means  of  satisfaction.  Sympathetic  and  formal  like- 
mindedness  yield  diminishing  returns.  Impulsive  social 
action  frequently  proves  to  be  enormously  costly  and 
destructive.  Formal  like-mindedness,  conformity  to  tradi- 
tional belief  and  authority,  as  was  shown  in  the  chapters 
on  Civilization  and  Progress,  carry  us  a  long  way  towards 
the  attainment  of  social  and  material  satisfactions  ;  but 
beyond  a  certain  point  they  bar  further  progress.  They 
stand  in  the  way  of  the  further  exploitation  of  new  means 
of  satisfaction.  When  this  point  is  reached,  further 
activity  in  the  line  of  least  effort  is  necessarily  rational. 
It  is  the  attempt  to  secure  satisfactions  by  indirect  means, 
as  was  explained  in  Chapter  XIII,  after  direct  means  have 
failed.  This  process,  however,  begins  subjectively  in 
individual  minds  before  it  becomes  an  objective  organi- 
zation of  social  cooperation.  Here  again,  in  accordance 
with  the  law  of  least  effort,  it  begins  in  those  most  highly 
developed  minds  in  which  it  is  least  difficult.  These  are 
the  comparatively  few.  For  this  reason,  rational  social 
choice,  the  formation  of  true  public  opinion,  and  the 
rational  leadership  of  social  activity  are,  and  must  always 
continue  to  be,  the  function  of  the  few. 


The  Theory  of  Society  347 

Specific  Laws.  —  We  might  here  continue  to  show  in 
detail  that  the  specific  laws  of  the  growth  of  impulsive 
social  action  by  geometrical  progression,  of  the  strength 
of  authority  and  tradition  in  proportion  to  their  antiquity, 
and  in  proportion  to  the  predominanpe  of  belief  over 
reasoned  conclusions  are  all  corollaries  of  the  fundamental 
psychological  principles ;  but  these  the  student  will  have  /^ 
no  trouble  in  thinking  out  for  himself.  The  same  is  true 
of  the  specific  laws  of  rational  choice,  of  preference,  of 
combination,  and  of  means. 

Causes  of  Civilization  and  Progress.  —  Finally,  we  have^  \ 
to  point  out  that  the  laws  of  social  organization,  of  civiliza--  -^ 
tion,  and  of  progress  are  all,  in  like  manner,  corollaries 
of  the  fundamental  psychological  principle.  Nothing  is 
easier  than  for  men  who  understand  one  another  to  live 
without  coercive  government,  because  they  can  anticipate 
|>f{  one  another's  conduct,  and  can  depend  upon  each  other's 
\^  good  faith  and  kindly  intentions.  Therefore,  to  a  com- 
munity of  such  men,  liberty  is  possible.  To  a  community 
of  extremely  heterogeneous  men,  it  is  impossible  because 
of  the  insuperable  mental  difficulty  of  sympathy  and  com- 
prehension. Civilization  we  found  to  be  a  product  of  the  \ 
passion  for  homogeneity,  and  its  policies  to  be  expressions 
of  that  passion.  No  passion  is  more  immediately  a  conse-  ^ 
quence  of  the  persistence  of  consciousness  in  the  paths  of 
least  difficulty  than  is  the  desire  to  overcome  the  hinderances 
to  sympathy,  to  mutual  agreement,  and  to  social  organiza- 
tion that  present  themselves  in  a  chaos  of  mental  and 
moral  qualities.  To  assimilate  these  to  a  common  type 
is  the  first  step  towards  achieving  the  satisfactions  of 
civilization  with  least  effort. 

The  toleration  of  variety,  of  criticism   and  discussion, 


I 


348  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

in  their  turn,  are  those  later  consequences  of  mental 
activity  in  the  lines  of  least  difficulty  that  appear  when 
the  returns  of  immediate  satisfaction  through  homogeneity 
begin  to  diminish. 

A  few  pages  back,  it  was  said  that  the  mental  and  moral 
consequences  of  activity  in  the  line  of  least  difficulty  are 
analogous  to  evolution  in  physical  phenomena.  How  this 
comes  about  has  been  partially  indicated  in  a  preceding 
paragraph. 

When  immediate  satisfactions,  obtained  by  any  given 
kind  and  degree  of  effort,  begin  to  diminish,. the  outreach- 
ing  of  the  mind  for  new  means  of  satisfaction  is  analogous 
to  the  equilibration  of  energy  between  a  material  mass 
and  its  environment.  The  immediate  consequence  is  an 
integration  of  consciousness.  The  sum  total  of  experi- 
ences, of  knowledge,  of  sensations,  is  increased.  In  the 
very  process  of  integration,  however,  differentiation  and 
segregation  begin.  New  pleasures  and  a  continual  in- 
crease of  satisfaction,  in  proportion  to  effort,  come  only 
with  variation  in  the  means  of  satisfaction  and  through  a 
putting  forth  of  effort  in  that  new  and  indirect  mode 
which  we  call  reason.  In  the  social  passion  for  homo- 
geneity, we  see  the  process  of  integration;  in  the  de- 
velopment of  discussion  and  of  criticism,  we  see  mental 
differentiation  and  segregation.  These  higher  intellectual 
processes,  therefore,  are  differential  consequences  of  mental 
activity  in  the  paths  of  least  effort,  as  truly  as  physical  dif- 
ferentiation is  a  consequence  of  equilibration  in  the  lines  of 
least  resistance. 

Intellectual  Strife.  —  One  further  analogy  discloses  a 
law  of  the  psychological  process  in  human  society  that 
is  of  more  momentous  practical  importance  than  any  other. 


The  Theory  of  Society  349 

Compound  evolution  and  continuing   differentiation  in* 
the  physical  world  were  shown  to  depend  upon  the  com-* 
parative  slowness  with  which  the  contained  energy  of  any* 
material  mass  is  dissipated.     A  too  rapid  integration  re- 
sults in  a  speedy  termination  of  evolution,  and  prevention 
of   those   more   delicate   transformations   that   can  occur 
only  through  the  slow  redistribution  of  contained  motion.  ' 
Thus   it   appears   that,  although   differentiation   depends 
upon  integration,  beyond  a  certain  point  the  rate  of  differ- 
entiation varies  inversely  with  the  rate  of  integration. 
ji        In  the  description  of  conflict  in  Chapter  IV,  it  was  shown 
JW  that  those  secondary  conflicts  which  include  the  pleasura- 
Af  ble  activities  of  thought,  sympathy,  association,  and  dis- 
cussion are  dependent  upon  the  ruder  forms  of  primary 
conflict.     Primary  conflict  is  essentially  identical  with  in- 
tegration, and  secondary  conflict  with  differentiation. 

Now,  in  the  psychical  processes  of  society,  homogeneity, 
as  was  set  forth  in  the  chapter  on  Civilization,  and  in  the 
chapters  on  Sympathetic  and  Formal  Like-mindedness,  is 
not  infrequently  brought  about  by  an  extremely  rapid  in- 
tegration. On  the  psychological  side,  primary  conflict  or 
rapid  integration  is  a  rapid  discharge  of  motor  impulse. 
Its  external  expression  is  the  use  of  physical  force  in  war- 
fare and  persecution.  These  methods,  then,  are  inconsist- 
ent with  that  high  degree  of  evolution  which  includes  the 
more  delicate  adaptations. 

In  terms  of  the  process  itself,  this  is  expressed  by  saying 
that,  just  as  the  rates  of  differentiation  and  integration 
beyond  a  certain  point  vary  inversely,  so,  beyond  a  certain 
point,  the  rates  of  physical  and  intellectual  strife  vary 
inversely. 

This  means,  first,  that  all  harsh,  passionate  attempts  to 


350  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

hasten  organization  by  coercive  methods  are  subversive  of 
the  higher  intellectual  activities.  It  means,  secondly,  that 
intellectual  strife  gradually  diminishes  physical  strife  with 
all  its  wastefulness  and  misery.  It  means,  finally,  that  only 
through  the  supremacy  of  intellectual  over  physical  strife  can 
the  higher  and  finer  results  of  social  evolution  be  attained. 

So  far,  then,  from  its  being  a  duty  for  men  and  women 
to  suppress  their  intellectual  convictions,  to  yield  tamely 
their  independently  thought-out  views  of  truth  and  right 
and  policy,  in  the  mistaken  notion  that  intellectual  conten- 
tion is  disreputable  or  unmannerly  or  unkind,  as  are  the 
forms  of  physical  strife,  the  precise  opposite  is  true.  In- 
tellectual strife  makes  for  rational,  and  ultimately  for  ethi- 
cal, like-mindedness ;  it  makes  for  peace,  prosperity,  and 
happiness.  The  highest  duty  of  every  rational  being  is  to, 
engage  with  sincere  and  disinterested  earnestness  in  the 
glorious  contests  of  intellectual  strife. 

The  Two  Processes.  —  Thus  social^^gyolutioa  is  primarily 
a  physical  process.  Physical  laws  determine  the  aggre- 
gation, the  growth,^  the  movements,  and  arrangements  of 
population  ;  they  determine  the  amount,  the  kinds,  and  the 
combinations  of  social  activities. 

But  within  aggregations  of  men,  mental  activities  are 
continually  asserting  themselves  and  working  themselves 
out  in  conformity  to  psychological  law.  In  this  process 
the  human  mind,  aware  of  itself,  deliberately  forms  and 
carries  out  policies  for  the  organization  and  perfection  of 
social  life,  in  order  that  the  great  end  of  society,  the  per-  \ 
fection  of  the  individual  personality,  may  be  completely  \ 
attained.  Society  is  not  a  purely  mechanical  product  of 
physical  evolution.  To  a  great  extent  it  is  an  intended 
product  of  .psychological  evolution. 


The  Theory  of  Society  351 

Social  Survival.  —  Nevertheless,  the  final  forms  that 
social  relations  assume,  the  institutions,  laws,  and  policies 
that  are  ultimately  incorporated  in  social  organization  and 
activity,  are  determined,  not  by  conscious  social  choice,  but 
by  a  process  of  survival,  which  is  itsdf  conditioned  by 
cosmic  law  over  which  man  has  no  control.  In  fine,  the 
ultimate  forms  of  society  are  determined  by  a  process  of 
natural  selection  and  survival. 

Not  all  objects  of  social  choice  are  long-enduring. 
Many  social  rules  and  forms  that  were  once  sanctioned 
by  the  social  mind  have  become  only  a  memory;  thou- 
sands of  laws  and  institutions  have  become  extinct.  Ex- 
isting social  values  and  arrangements  are  survivals. 

Social  products  sometimes  disappear  through  the  extinc- 
tion of  races,  communities,  or  classes.  Usually,  however, 
the  relations,  forms,  laws,  and  institutions  that  perish  fail 
through  the  indifference  and  defection  of  those  individuals 
who  have  undertaken  to  maintain  them. 

The  poUtical,  industrial,  religious,  or  other  associations 
that  cease  to  exist  usually  fail  through  a  decrease  of  their 
membership ;  and  laws  become  a  dead  letter  because  the 
community  ceases  to  care  or  think  about  them.  Con- 
versely, the  social  forms,  laws,  and  institutions  that  sur- 
vive, persist  through  their  power  to  hold  the  interest  and 
allegiance  of  individuals  who  are  able  to  enforce  or  to  sup- 
port them.  In  the  long  run,  all  such  power  to  interest 
and  to  hold  allegiance  springs  from  utility.  It  is  when 
the  law  or  the  institution  ceases  to  benefit  that  its  power 
over  men  fails. 

Nattiral  Selection.  —  As  thus  brought  about,  the  survival 
and  the  extinction  of  forms,  laws,  and  institutions  is  a  true 
natural  selection. 


352  The  Elements  of  Sociology 

Natural  selection  is  commonly  thought  of  as  a  survival 
of  individuals  through  some  superiority  of  organization. 
This,  however,  is  an  inadequate  conception  of  the  actual 
process.  In  the  struggle  for  existence,  an  organism 
perishes  if  its  food-getting,  food-assimilating,  or  other 
vital  organs  fail  to  perform  their  functions,  or  perform 
them  in  maladjustment  to  environment  and  conditions. 
A  race,  in  like  manner,  perishes  if  the  reproductive  organs 
fail  in  function.  Conversely,  any  superiority  of  function, 
whether  due  to  a  beneficial  variation  in  organization  or  to 
any  other  cause,  insures  survival. 

Natural  selection,  therefore,  is  survival  through  a  supe- 
rior adaptation  and  performance  of  function,  in  a  com- 
petition in  which  non-adaptation  or  non-performance  of 
function  is  fatal.  And  this  is  exactly  what  happens 
among  social  forms,  laws,  and  institutions.  The  failure 
to  benefit,  to  interest,  and  to  hold  allegiance  is  a  failure 
of  function ;  and  the  selection  that  results  among  laws 
and  institutions  from  successes  and  failures  of  function  is 
therefore  a  true  natural  selection. 

TJie  Law  of  Survival.  —  The  successful  performance  of 
functions  by  institutions,  as  by  vital  organs,  depends  upon 
an  increasing  nicety  of  adaptation  to  an  ever-complicating 
environment. 

"The  environment"  is  an  ever-changing  group  of  rela- 
tions. Like  the  thing  or  organism  environed,  it  is  under- 
going ceaseless  evolution,  and  is  becoming  more  and  more 
diversified  through  differentiation. 

Accordingly,  the  law  of  the  survival  of  social  interests 
and  relations  —  forms,  laws,  and  institutions  —  is  as  fol- 
lows : 

Those  social  valuations  and  relations  persist  which  are 


TJie  Theory  of  Society 


<^ 


component  parts  of  a  total  of  values  and  relations  that  is 
becoming  ever  more  complex  through  the  inclusion  of  new 
interests  and  new  relations,  and  at  the  same  time  more  thor- 
ou.ghly  harmonious  and  coherent. 

Thus,  social  causation  is  a  process  of  psychical  activity  I  / 
conditioned  by  physical  processes  and  cosmic  law.        i        |  ^ 


PARALLEL   STUDY 


Read  Spencer's  "First  Principles,"  Part  II;  Ward's  "Outlines  of 
Sociology,"  or  "Psychic  Factors  of  Civilization";  Kidd's  "Social 
Evolution " ;  and  Mackenzie's  "  Introduction  to  Social  Philosophy," 
Chapters  III,  IV,  Vj  'S    cji»M      **>.*nt        to      ^-o       «.v--»a.w. 


2A 


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